


Good For You

by silvyri



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles has some weird piercing kink, Charles's Crush deserves a capital letter, Dom Erik, Dom/sub, Emotionally Constipated Erik Lehnsherr, Erik Lehnsherr Has a Crush, Erik wears too much metal, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Probably Abandoned, Raven is constantly yelling in this, Rimming, So has Charles, Spanking, Sub Charles, Subspace, confused Charles, featuring Erik Lehnsherr's Shark Teeth, honestly i'm terrible with making up rules in universes, i'm terrible i know, it's that bad, please forgive me for this purely self indulgent filfth, sorry friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-04-27 19:09:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14432208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvyri/pseuds/silvyri
Summary: Charles Xavier, resident nerd and submissive at Westchester High, knows exactly how many piercings Erik Lehnsherr has in both ears and on average how many rings he wears each day to school. He's also a little terrified of Erik's infamous Shark Teeth, but mostly turned on, and wanks far too often to imagining what it would feel like to choke on Erik's dick.In which Charles has a massive Crush on Erik, Erik is obtuse and doesn't know how to use his words.On indefinite hiatus.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah I wrote this purely for a scene that I haven't even gotten to yet. I honestly have no idea what I'm doing. But I'm having fun doing it! Currently I think this will be 3 chapters with what I've got planned, and I'll keep adding tags and characters and shit when they appear in chapters. I've proof read this myself, and I'm rather terrible at it, so any awkward sentences and mistakes are mine.
> 
> Read on for pure self indulgence and cute, nerdy sub Charles crushing over leather jacket wearing, frowny Dom Erik.

Charles Xavier, submissive and senior at Westchester High, eighteen in July, thank you very much, is a little obsessed with Erik Lehnsherr, Dominant and senior. It doesn’t really make any sense to be honest, Charles is basically the epitome of the term nerd, with his frumpy cardigans and ill fitting slacks and bad haircut and short stature and a habit of being too smart for his own good, while Erik is, well, kind of completely the opposite.

“A total babe,” his younger sister had said once, when Raven had deemed it okay this one time to sit with him and his fellow nerd, Hank, at lunch. She’d been staring dreamingly at Erik in the lunch line, and Charles, who was very proper and didn’t blush to his hairline had spluttered and refused to let Raven even think about dating Erik Lehnsherr because he was much too old for her (she hadn’t even Presented submissive or Dominant yet, she'd only been thirteen at that point) and far too, well, predatory with his shark smile and too many piercings and leather jacket. And there were these rumours that he’d once scared a teacher so much for telling him to take the piercings out that the teacher had quit that very day. Charles not letting Raven entertain the idea was definitely because of those reasons and not because Charles had a massive, embarrassing, crippling crush on the other teen.

Which is currently the reason why Charles can’t pay any attention in his advanced calculus class, and he really needs to, because math isn’t exactly his strong suit. But Erik has, for some strange reason, sat behind him instead of his normal place in the back of the class, and Charles can look to the left and see the reflection of Erik in the glass of the window next to him, frowning up at the board.

The numerous metal piercings in his ear glints. Charles is transfixed, counting the metal studs and bars again in Erik’s left ear, even if Charles already knows how many are there. Seven in total, including an industrial bar piercing that Charles kind of wants to run his tongue across. He drops his eyes across the strong jawline, shadowed with ginger stubble, and isn’t that unfair because Charles hardly has any body hair at this point and they are the same age damn it, and lingers on Erik’s broad shoulders and ridiculously lean waist because wow, Erik should be a model or something. He would fit right into a magazine spread, half naked and brooding as he stared into the camera, long limbs sprawled across a leather couch, all Dom and uncompromising and sexy.

Charles shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat and looks up guiltily from where he is contemplating Erik’s hands. The long slim fingers are covered in steel rings and he ponders what they would feel like around his wrists, all firm fingers and hot grip and cold metal, and jumps a little in his seat to see Erik staring back at him in the reflection, pierced eyebrow risen and a smirk on his thin lips.

Ohmygod, Charles thinks in a panic, he saw me staring, and snaps his eyes back to the front of the classroom where Mrs Muligan is writing up an equation. The back of his neck burns red hot and he hopes to god that his floppy hair is covering it up.

A few minutes later he deems it safe to peek into the window again. He breathes in sharply when he realizes that Erik is staring intensely at the back of his head, his teeth bared lightly in a grin. Then Erik locks eyes with him again and his grin widens into an aggressive full fledged, full toothed smile. All of Charles’s nerves alight with the look and he stares resolutely back down at his work, furiously trying to differentiate the equation. It looked like Erik had wanted to eat him, but Erik has never even looked at him before. He hopes he hasn’t aggravated the other boy, because he gets enough trouble from big Doms at school, and even other subs.

He sighs and doesn’t look up into the window again, refusing to give into his brain making up the feeling of Erik’s eyes on the back of his neck.

-

“I’m going to fail calculus,” Charles moans into his textbook.

Hank doesn’t look sympathetic at all. “You’ve never failed anything in your life. You’ll be fine.”

“Uhm, physical education?” Charles points out and Hank rolls his eyes behind his thick glasses. “You’ve never failed anything that counts.”

“That doesn’t help,” Charles moans more and rolls onto his cheek, whimpering. “I swear, I can’t concentrate with his eyes on me. He’s been sitting behind me all week. It makes me all jittery and Mrs Muligan looks like she thinks I’m on drugs or something.”

“I don’t get your weird crush on Lehnsherr,” Hanks sounds even more unsympathetic. “He’s all grouchy and spiky with his piercings and he has no friends.”

“His piercings are hot, and he’s just mysterious, Hank.”

“Right,” Hank says dubiously, “well, here’s your chance to tell him you have a fetish for his ears.”

Charles bolts upright in his chair and spots Erik walking into the library, which is kind of weird because Erik has never set foot into the library, and Charles would know because he practically lives here. Erik looks around and Charles quickly picks up his textbook and buries his head into the pages, flushing.

“He’s looking at you,” Hank hisses out of the corner of his mouth. “I think he’s coming over here, oh man, he looks pissed.”

“Oh my god,” Charles whimpers and hunkers down further into his seat. Maybe Erik has realised Charles has a huge boner for him and is coming over to punch it out of him. Charles doesn’t even think he would mind if it meant Erik would touch him. Christ, he's doomed.

Scuffed black boots come into his vision and Charles figures he should look up, and wow Erik’s eyes are a beautiful grey and wow his frown is scary and gorgeous.

“Hey,” Erik says. Charles could melt at his accent if he wasn’t currently terrified.

“Uh- hi,” Charles squeaks and word vomits, “please-don’t-kill-me.”

Hank kicks him under the table, but he looks equally as scared.

Erik’s eyebrows raise, and his teeth are rather sharp. He ignores what Charles just said. “What time does your bio club finish after school?”

“Uh-,” Charles flounders. “Five?”

“Right,” Erik says and walks away. Charles is left gaping after his shapely arse in those tight black jeans.

Hank frowns, bewildered as Erik disappears through the doors. “What was that?”

Charles is rather confused also. “I don’t know. How does he even know I have bio club?”

“You shouldn’t have told him when you finish, numbskull,” Hank says. “He’s probably going to wait outside school with an axe and hack you to pieces.”

Charles pales. “Oh dear, you’re right,” he groans and slams his head onto the desk.

The librarian shushes him and Charles just makes a face at her. She doesn’t understand that he’s going to be cat food in under four hours.

-

Charles can’t concentrate during bio club and overfeeds the fish. He ends up scooping out soggy flakes of fish food out of the tank while everybody else leaves, and there goes his plan to find safety in numbers. Hank had abandoned him to his fate before and gone home since he wasn’t in bio club, stating that Charles had dug his own grave and he should just give in and lie in it already.

He had contemplated skipping club, but in the end just decided to go and rip the bandaid off, metaphorically. If he is going to die, Charles likes to think he is brave enough to face it head on.

Nobody is out in the hallway when he pokes his head out of the door, and he’s blissfully alone as he collects his things from his locker. He just about thinks he’s gotten away scot-free when he exits the front building of the school and almost jumps a foot into the air when Erik is there waiting, leaning up against the outside wall and smoking.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” Charles squeaks and curses his inability to speak normally around the Dom.

Erik looks more amused than murderous, but still a little murderous. “We can’t have that, can we?” He takes one last drag of his cigarette, blows the smoke out and scuffs the butt out under his boot. “Come on,” he says and leads the way down the steps.

“Uhm,” Charles stutters, but since he’s an idiot, blindly follows Erik out of the school gates.

“Which way?” Erik stops out on the sidewalk and looks at him.

Charles feels utterly confused. “What?”

“Which way is your house?”

“Uhhh,” Charles tries to think very hard about why Erik would want to know which way his house is. He can’t think of a reason at all. “That way?” He points down the street.

Erik turns and walks in the direction Charles points in. Walks a few steps and looks over his shoulder. “Well, are you coming?”

“Yes?” Charles is seriously befuddled and almost trips over himself. Erik still looks more amused than murderous, which must be a good thing. They walk to the end of the street and Erik raises an eyebrow at him at the corner.

“Uh, this way,” Charles mutters, and really he should be leading Erik to a fake address or something because he’s pretty sure Erik’s only finding out where he lives so he can murder him in his house or something. But Erik’s presence kind of melts his brain and he ends up leading Erik on the fifteen minute walk to the town house that Mother had purchased for Raven and him to live in while they attend school.

Charles pauses outside the gate of a three storey white townhouse with far too many rooms for him, Raven and the live in maid. “So, this is me.”

Erik is looking up at his house with an unreadable expression. “Nice house,” he says. “Do you have anything after school tomorrow?”

“...No?” Charles says. Can he stop answering questions with questions yet? Christ he’s a disaster.

“Good,” Erik says and looks at him for a second. Charles fights to not squirm.

Erik pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his leather jacket and lights one. “See you later,” he murmurs around his smoke and heads off back down the street.

Charles just stares after him, dumbfounded. What just happened?

“Hey, nerd, what are you doing?” Raven yells at him from the front door. “You’re missing Criminal Minds!”

Right. Charles spins on his heel and heads inside.

-

“So?” Hank asks in homeroom, leaning up against the desk Charles is sitting in, “he obviously didn’t kill you.”

“Yeah,” Charles says. “He just, kind of, walked me home?”

“Weird,” Hank says, and he has a strange look in his eyes.

Charles frowns at him, “what?”

“Nothing,” Hank says and then the bell rings.

-

After school Charles and Hank walk out together, and Erik is leaning up against the wall outside the school, same place as yesterday, smoking again.

Charles blinks at him and Erik flicks away the ash on his cigarette. He pins Hank with a deadly grey gaze and Hank falls a step back. “Uh,” says the traitor, “I’m just going to go.”

“Hank!” Charles hisses, but the other sub just gives him an apologetic look and practically runs down the steps. Charles is so going to send him some choice angry texts later.

Once again, Erik leads the way. This time he doesn’t have to ask Charles the directions. They don’t speak again and Charles takes the time to admire Erik’s appearance as he trails a pace behind. He’s once again in his customary worn leather jacket with silver hardware, with a dark grey t-shirt that clings to his sculpted chest. He’s wearing a different pair of tight black jeans, these ones with rips at the knees and fraying at the ankles, and black, heavy boots. He’s changed out some of the silver studs in his ears for heavy silver sleepers and his eyebrow piercing is a ring also, his rings on his fingers are the same. He’s so fucking hot and Charles thinks it so damn unfair that Erik lucked out in the genetic lottery while Charles is probably in the lowest decile of attractiveness. He doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell in even thinking about being Erik’s Sub.

Ten minutes is quickly over and Erik turns to him, holding his hand out. “Give me you phone.”

Charles almost drops it from where he digs it out of his jeans and hands it over, hoping to God that it isn’t sweaty from his palms. Erik raises an eyebrow and hands it back over. “Unlock it.”

“Uh, right, silly me,” Charles stutters and fumbles his passcode in. Erik giving orders is seriously hot and no, he can not pop a boner in front of his house in full view of the entire street. Erik takes it from his hands and taps away. When he gives it back Charles blinks at the new contact called Erik programmed into his contact list.

“I sent myself a text, so I have your number,” Erik says. “Do you like ice cream?”

Charles fucking loves ice cream. “Yeah. Do you?”

Erik shrugs, “not really. Are you free after school tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Charles says.

“Good,” Erik replies and stares at him again for a second. “See you,” and then he’s walking back down the street.

Charles musters up the courage to wave even if Erik isn’t looking. “Bye!” He calls, and then bites his lip. For such a gorgeous guy, Erik sure is confusing. Ice cream? But holy shit, he has Erik’s number! Holy shit, he has Erik Lehnsherr’s number! Charles stares disbelievingly at his Iphone, and pumps his fist into the air. “Yes!”

Charles practically skips into the house. Raven looks at him weird where she’s already sitting at the kitchen bench, munching on sandwiches that Sarah, their live in maid that Mother had insisted on, had made that morning.

“Why are you all red?” She asks.

Charles goes a little more red. “No reason,” he says and steals a sandwich off her plate.

Raven eyes him dubiously, “uh huh. Weirdo.”

“Shut up,” Charles grumbles around a mouthful of bread, cheese, tomato and chutney and heads to his room.

Later, at night, after he’s stared at Erik’s number in his phone for what feels like hours, he jerks off to the memory of Erik’s voice ordering him to hand over and unlock his phone. Whimpers as he comes wet over his fist from thinking about Erik’s beringed fingers wrapped around his neck, holding him down and squeezing.

-

Erik is waiting for him again outside the front doors of school. Fellow students eye them weirdly as Charles wordlessly follows after Erik down the stairs and out of the gates. But this time Erik turns right instead of left.

“Uh, my house is the other way,” Charles points out.

Erik looks over his shoulder at him. “I know. Come on.”

“...All right.” It’s not like he has anything better to do, anyway. Except maybe wanking to imagining sucking Erik’s dick, which has to be huge based on what fills the front of Erik’s tight jeans, and Erik telling him that he’s so good, so good for him, and Charles coughs, flushing, and jogs after Erik who’s a few metres in front of him and gaining distance.

“Where are we going?” Charles asks after a few minutes. They’re heading into town, the exact opposite of the way to his house.

“You’ll see,” is all Erik says and Charles pouts. Erik eyes him, his mouth, and grins with all his sharp teeth. Charles blushes up to his hairline and Erik looks even more pleased and it’s kind of scary, to be honest. But hot.

They come to an ice cream parlour. Erik goes in before him and holds the door open, which Charles mumbles a thanks to, and then leads him to an empty table.

He pulls out a chair for Charles. “Sit,” he commands, and Charles falls heavily into the chair, eyes wide as his backpack slips from his fingers and onto the floor. That domineering tone of voice is going to kill him. It hadn’t even had any proper Command behind it and his knees had gone weak immediately.

Erik leaves him there, and goes up to the counter. He comes back with a plastic container half full of milk chocolate ice cream and the other half full of strawberry, which he places in front of Charles, and a smaller cup of bitter dark chocolate gelato for himself.

“This is for me?” Charles looks down at the ice cream. It’s covered in rainbow sprinkles, his favourite.

“Yeah,” Erik says. “I heard you say that you like milk chocolate and strawberries.”

Charles had been talking to Hank at lunch about the best way to eat chocolate, and where Hank had insisted dark chocolate and macadamia was his favourite Charles had insisted that strawberries dipped in milk chocolate were the best. He could’ve sworn Erik hadn’t been anywhere near them at the time.

“I do. Uh, thank you? You didn’t have to.”

Erik looks pleased as he digs his spoon into his gelato and doesn’t say anything. For the lack of anything better to do Charles starts to eat his own, smiling happily into the ice cream. It’s delicious. He has no fucking clue what is currently happening, but he’s not going to ruin anything by opening his big mouth and asking what the hell is going on. He’s just going to shut up and eat his ice cream.

Erik finishes his gelato before Charles and watches Charles finish his ice cream. Charles looks up from his last spoonful, sucking the last bit of chocolate flavour off of plastic, and goes red when he realises that Erik is staring intensely at his mouth. He quickly pops the spoon out and drops in into the empty cup.

“Did you like it?” Erik asks.

Charles nods. “Yeah, it was great. Uhm, how much was it, I can pay you back?”

Suddenly, Erik’s frown is back in place and he looks angry again. Charles hasn’t even noticed how pleasant his expression had been before. He panics a little. What has he done wrong?

“No,” Erik grits out and stands up. Charles scrambles to get his bag and follow Erik out the door. The bell jingles as the door swings shut behind him and he hurries to catch up with Erik’s long strides. It doesn’t take long to Charles to figure out that Erik is leading him home again.

Once again, they walk in silence, and when Erik notices that Charles is struggling to keep up with his pace, slows a bit for him. Charles huffs and comes up beside him, gripping the straps of his backpack tightly.

“Bye,” Erik says and disappears down the street when they arrive at Charles’s house.

“See you!” Charles waves, biting his lip. Erik’s expression hadn’t been too angry, just the normal scowl the other boy usually wore at school. He hopes he hasn’t ruined what weird thing that they have going on.

Raven is watching cute cat videos in the lounge when he walks in, and he sits down and joins her. “Where were you?” Raven asks idly, clicking on a Youtube video of funny cats.

“Got ice cream with Hank,” he says, because he doesn’t want Raven bugging him for details about why he had just got ice cream with Erik Lehnsherr. He doesn’t really know what’s going on himself.

“You should’ve asked if I wanted to come,” Raven whines, “now I want ice cream.”

“You wouldn’t have come anyway,” Charles rolls his eyes. “You always say that you can’t be seen in public with Hank and I.”

Raven flicks her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “Well, I could catch nerdiness from you two, and I’m just too gorgeous to be hidden away behind ugly sweaters.”

“They’re not ugly!” Charles squawks, indignant. He loves his sweaters; they’re comfy and warm.

Raven eyes the fuzzy green one he’s wearing at the moment, with the argyle pattern. “Yes, they are.”

Charles pouts and gets up, leaving the room.

“Aw, don’t sulk!” Raven calls after him and Charles slams the door to his room.

-

That night, after Charles finishes his history essay due next week, he’s in the middle of texting Hank when he gets a message from Erik. His heart skips a beat when he sees the notification, and he hastily jabs the screen to see the text.

_Are you free after school tomorrow?_

Charles grins happily. That means that Erik wants to see him again, he hadn’t ruined anything!

 _Yes_ , he replies, fingers shaking. He agonises over the simple text for a moment, then figures it’s okay. Short and simple, to the point.

Erik doesn’t reply. Charles chews at his lips for a moment, and ignores a text from Hank. Types out, _thank you for the ice cream_. It doesn’t hurt to be extra thankful, right?

 _No problem_ , Erik replies.

Charles grins and rolls over on his bed. He tries to think of something in reply, and ends up settling on _thanks again, good night! :)_

_Night. Sleep well._

Holy crap, he’d just had a text conversation with Erik. Laughing, he holds his phone to his chest and stares dreamily at his ceiling. Wonders what Erik has been doing while texting him. Maybe lying on his bed as well, since it was rather late? And then the mental picture morphs into Erik, naked, lying on his back in his sheets, gripping his hard, huge cock and jerking himself off, metal rings glinting in the warm dim light.

Charles gasps and reaches into his pyjama pants. Masturbates to the image, thinking of the curve of Erik’s cock, what it would feel like in his hands, in him. Comes embarrassingly fast, and curls up under the covers, sleepy.

He drifts off, wondering what earrings Erik will be wearing tomorrow.

-

Sebastian Shaw corners Charles coming out of one of the submissive bathrooms after school. Shoves him back into the room and locks the door behind him. Charles struggles to get back up onto his feet and yelps in fear when Shaw rests one of his feet against his shoulder and forces him back down onto the tiles.

“Now what’s so special about you, hm?” Shaw drawls, and he just looks a little bored, like he’s pining an insect under his foot and not a human being or anything.

Charles gulps. “What? I don’t- I don’t know what you mean.”

“Quiet,” Shaw Commands, and Charles fights against the order, mind screaming against submissive instinct to obey. Manages a strangled noise, tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

“Weak,” Shaw sniffs, lifting his foot off of Charles. He examines Charles with cold eyes, and Charles, free of the constraint of Shaw’s foot, tries to get up again.

Shaw kicks him in the ribs and he goes down with a quiet cry. Tears stream from his eyes and leak down his cheeks, and he stares up in Shaw in horror. Clutches his side from where he’s sprawled on the floor, tries but fails to yell for help, Shaw’s Command still forcing his silence.

“Pretty enough when you cry,” Shaw muses, “but still. Makes no sense to me.” He nudges Charles with his foot and then turns on his heel, unlocks the bathroom door and leaves Charles on the floor, trembling silently.

Charles shakes, his side hurting like hell. His vision is a little grey around the edges and he feels weirdly sluggish now that the danger is over. He’s never ever talked to Sebastian Shaw in his life. Yes, they are in the same year, but in completely different social circles. Shaw is popular, on the bloody football team, and surrounds himself with other Doms. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly come to Shaw’s attention.

Sniffing, he stands up on shaky legs and wipes away his tears. Splashes water on his face and examines his side, pulling up his shirt. His ribs are starting to bruise already, but when he gingerly pokes at them, they don’t hurt like when he’s fractured his arm when he fell off his bike a few years ago.

Shaw’s Command is wearing off. “Right, you’re okay,” Charles says to himself in the mirror, just to make sure he can. He hasn’t had a Dom’s Command forced on him for years, ever since Cain, but he remembers how helpless he’d felt, how much he’d hated it, and he feels like that now. He still feels shaky, and cold.

He splashes water on his face again, hoping it will help with his red, swollen eyes, and sniffs. Picks his bag up from where it’d fallen and makes his way out of the bathroom.

Erik is waiting for him again at the front doors. He takes one look at Charles’s pale face and red eyes and drops his smoke.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

Charles sniffs, and he feels like crying again in the wake of Erik’s concern, but he refuses to let the tears fall. Suddenly he’s angry, “nothing that’s any of your business,” he snaps.

Erik’s face is thunderous. He stalks off and Charles watches, eyes wide, his stomach dropping. He’s gone and ruined everything, whatever everything was. But then Erik stops, takes a big breath, and turns back around. Steps back up in front of Charles and gently grips his chin in his fingers, making Charles tilt his face up and look him in the eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and his grey gaze is intense.

Charles fucking quivers in his hold, like every submissive in every bad romance novels he’s ever read, but yeah, he kind of knows now why it’s such a cliche. “Yeah,” he whispers. He isn’t so cold anymore.

Erik doesn’t quite look like he believes him, but doesn’t ask again.

“Come on, then,” he says, and leads Charles down the steps of the school. Again, walks him home.

But this time, Charles finds himself asking if Erik wants to come in.

Erik looks rather smug, for some strange reason. “Yeah,” he says, and it’s Charles’s turn to lead him up to his house. He opens the door and lets Erik in.

“I’m home, Sarah!” He yells, and Sarah yells back from the kitchen, “there’s sandwiches and lemonade, Charles!”

“Groovy,” Charles chirps, “uhm, are you hungry?”

Erik shrugs, “I could eat.”

“Great! Uh, come on,” and shows Erik into the kitchen. Sarah looks up from where she’s reading a magazine at the breakfast bar.

“Erik, this is Sarah. Sarah, Erik.”

“Hello, Erik,” Sarah says, eyeing all of Erik’s piercings and leather and tight black jeans. Charles ignores her, scoops up some sandwiches on a plate and the jug of lemonade in the fridge. Erik says hello politely back, picks up two glasses that Charles asks him to take, and then trails after him.

Charles thanks the heavens that today is Friday, and that Raven is staying the weekend at a friends. He wouldn’t be able to deal with Raven if she saw Erik Lehnsherr in their house.

Charles leads Erik to the living room. His bedroom is currently a mess, and he doesn’t want Erik to like, somehow know that he’s been masturbating to Erik on his bed from the state of his sheets. It makes no sense, but Charles wants to take no chances.

“Is there anything you want to watch?” Charles says after he’s dumped the sandwiches and lemonade on the low coffee table.

“No.” Erik settles back into the leather couch, shedding his leather jacket and hanging it over the arm of the couch. Charles rips his eyes away from the sight of Erik’s strong forearms and turns the tv on. He struggles for a moment with the buttons; his hands are still shaky from Shaw’s attack. For a second he wonders if something is wrong with him, he’s beginning to get cold again, feels sluggish.

“I’m watching Planet Earth at the moment. Is that okay?”

“Sure.”

Charles quickly puts Netflix on the Chromecast and starts the new episode. He sits next to Erik on the couch, not too close, and folds a leg under him. Hugs himself for warmth. Doesn’t notice Erik eyeing him.

David Attenborough’s voice is smooth from the speakers, narrating over beautiful scenes of the ocean. Charles reaches for a sandwich for something to do, and hisses when his ribs twinge with pain at the stretch.

Erik is suddenly pushing him back, eyes narrow. “You said you were fine,” he growls and tugs Charles’s shirt out of his waistband.

Charles yelps in surprise, squirming as Erik yanks his shirt up to inspect his ribs. “Erik!” He tries to force his shirt back down, but Erik is having none of it, pining Charles back against the arm of the couch. “Be still.”

The order has no hint of Command, but Charles goes still immediately, eyes wide. Fingers adorned in numerous silver rings gently touch the bruise darkening over his side. Charles shivers, forcing back a whimper as his skin forms goosebumps.

“Who did this to you?” Erik’s voice is low and gravelly, his face set in a dangerous scowl.

Charles swallows. “Sebastian Shaw,” he whispers.

Erik grits his teeth and lets go of Charles’s shirt. “I’ll kill him.”

“What! No!” Charles grips Erik’s wrist, as if that will stop him, and then both of them are suddenly aware of how close they are. Charles’s legs are spread with Erik kneeling between them, the sub leaning back over the armrest, eyes huge with Erik looming over him. Erik’s hand is a hot brand against his hip, still in contact with his skin above his pants.

“Oh,” Charles breathes, and then suddenly Erik’s face changes. His grey eyes drop to Charles’s mouth. He leans forward an inch more, and then they’re kissing.

Time seems to slow. Erik’s lips slide against his, and then he’s licking his way into Charles’s mouth, not letting Charles shy away from him. He tastes like smoke and Charles makes a sound he’s never heard himself make before, tips his head up willingly and lets Erik dominate his mouth. Erik makes a deep sound himself as Charles timidly snakes his tongue around Erik’s.

Erik breaks off from him, and Charles notices all of a sudden that he’s shaking and that he feels warm and cold and nauseous and sluggish. Realises all too late what’s happening. Shaw’s assault on him from this afternoon is finally catching up with him, and the surprise of Erik kissing him, amazing enough as it is, has tipped him over the precipice.

“Oh no,” he whispers, and feels himself tilt sideways. Through the ringing of his ears he can hear Erik cursing, calling his name. “Charles, Charles? Shit, are you Dropping?”

-

Slowly, Charles becomes aware of things. He’s warm and comfortable, his wrists held in a strong, reassuring hold, up against his chest. Blinking, he squirms a little.

A hand holds his cheek and Charles manages to focus on Erik’s grey eyes with his own. The Dom looks relieved. “Charles?”

Charles clears his throat. “Yeah,” he croaks. He’s curled up on Erik’s lap with one of the Dom’s broad hands grasping both his wrists together, grounding him. The blanket from over the back of the couch is wrapped snugly around him. David Attenborough is still narrating in the background, wide sweeping shots of a desert showing on the screen.

“How do you feel?”

Charles blinks again, slowly. Finds that he’s not feeling horrible, not at all like he’s come out of a full Drop. “Okay,” he says.

Erik grunts, but his tone is gentle when he talks to Charles. “You didn’t Drop fully, I managed to fend it off. You should be fine in a few minutes. Do you want me to hold you a little longer?”

Charles doesn’t even have to think about it. “Yes, please.”

They sit on the couch for a while, until Charles doesn’t feel shaky and can only think about how Erik can’t be comfortable with a bony submissive sitting on him for this long. Shifts a little and lifts his head from where it has fallen onto Erik’s shoulder.

“I feel better now, thanks.” He doesn’t really want to get up, but they can only stay like this for so long until Erik gets impatient.

Erik lets go of his wrists and Charles quietly unfolds himself, staggers up onto his feet. Erik steadies him with a hand on his hip and Charles flushes. “I’m sorry.” He feels mortified that Erik has had to deal with him.

“Don’t be,” Erik says. His eyes flick to the lemonade and sandwiches on the coffee table. “You should eat something.”

Charles doesn’t feel particularly hungry, but does anyway. Has a few bites of a sandwich and discovers that he is. Erik watches him steadily over his own sandwich as he settles back into the couch.

“You can leave, if you want,” Charles mumbles after he finishes, staring at his knees.

Erik doesn’t say anything and Charles chances a glance up at the other boy. There’s a frown on Erik’s brow, but he doesn’t look angry, exactly. Maybe concerned?

“Next time,” Erik is saying, “tell me if you think you’re Dropping.”

Next time? Charles thinks, dazed. “Okay,” he says softly.

Pleased, Erik settles back into the couch. Charles eyes him out of the corner of his eye, but Erik only watches the television. Charles feels a little bereft and leans back into the couch cushions. A warm arm gets in the way; Erik has stretched an arm around the back of him. Blushing, Charles leans a little more towards the Dom and Erik pulls him closer, nestling him up against his side.

They watch until the end of the current episode with Charles hardly believing that he’s currently snuggled up with Erik Lehnsherr on his couch, watching Planet Earth. Erik is ridiculously warm and smells great, all smoke and musk. Charles knows that he’s going to be jerking off tonight so much that his hand is probably going to fall off.

“I should go,” Erik says after Netflix asks if they’re still there. Charles stiffens with disappointment and tries not to pout, but Erik must see something in his face because he grins at him, showing all his teeth. Reels Charles in, who lets out an embarrassing squeak which turns into a breathless moan as Erik kisses him, holding him in with a firm hand on the back of neck, fingers in his hair.

When Erik pulls away Charles tries to chase his lips, but Erik covers his mouth and nose with his broad palm. Charles’s eyes go wide and he stops breathing, pliant in Erik’s hold.

Grey eyes go a little dark and Erik curses under his breath. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he mutters and Charles blushes bright red at the praise. Yes, he wants to be perfect for Erik. Wants to slip down to his knees at Erik’s feet and bare his neck, wants to worship Erik’s hands with his tongue, taste flesh and metal.

“I really have to go.” Erik sounds put out and drops his hold on Charles. “Text me if you need anything. If you feel even a little like you’re going to Drop again.”

Charles really doesn’t want Erik to go, but he ends up just saying “Okay.” He doesn’t want to whine and be one of those needy Subs that have to be around their Dom all the time.

Erik collects his jacket off the arm of the couch. Charles follows him to the front door and gets thoroughly kissed on the steps by Erik before they other boy leaves.

“Bye,” Charles says dazedly. Erik smirks back at him and ambles out the front gate without a word.

Charles almost pulls a muscle wanking that night, remembering the feeling of Erik’s hand restricting his breathing, the cool metal of his rings digging into Charles’s face.

-

Erik is waiting outside his house Monday morning.

Charles freezes on the front steps, mouth open wide. Raven bumps into his back. “What the hell Charles?” She looks around his shoulder. “Is that- is that Erik Lehnsherr?”

“Uh,” Charles says, intelligently. Erik spots him from the front gate and grins at him. He’s in his leather jacket, of course, and a crisp white shirt with a v neck that gives a glimpse of his chest. His multiple piercings glint in the morning light, flashing at his ears and eyebrow. Charles hasn’t ever felt as frumpy as he feels now, in the face of such attractiveness.

“Holy shit, it is,” Raven says. Charles finds that his feet start walking forward again. “Don’t say anything,” Charles hisses at his younger sister, “just, please.”

Raven doesn’t have a chance to reply before they join Erik. “Hey,” Erik nods at Raven and then looks at Charles. “Charles,” he greets and is then tugging the textbooks Charles holds close to his chest away from him. Charles just lets him, blinking in confusion.

Erik starts walking, carrying Charles’s textbooks in his unfairly muscled arms, and Charles hurries after him. Raven trails behind them with an incredulous look on her face.

“How long were you waiting?” Charles has to ask, because he hasn’t told Erik what time he and Raven left for school in the morning.

Erik shrugs. “Not long.”

Charles doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just says “huh. Uhm, I don’t think I thanked you properly for Friday. I’m really sorry that you had to deal with that.”

He ignores Raven behind him hissing, “deal with what?” and Erik ignores her too.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Erik says simply, “I was happy to.”

Charles flushes a little, a smile hanging on his mouth.

“But tell me next time something happens,” Erik reminds him. “I will,” Charles says. His stomach is making happy little twirls inside his body.

They get to school and Erik walks him to his locker, helps him unload more things out of his bag. “See you later,” he says and disappears into the crowd of students beginning to form, probably heading off to his homeroom.

“What the hell!” Raven practically yells when Erik is out of earshot. “When did Erik Lehnsherr start walking you to school!? Last time I checked he didn’t even know you existed! How does he know where we live!?”

Charles tries to hide his face in his locker under the pretense of trying to find his textbook for his first class. “He started walking me home on Wednesday,” he admits, but says nothing about Erik kissing him on the couch in their living room.

“This is fucking insane,” Raven says.

“Don’t I know it,” Charles mutters, and is saved from his little sister yelling at him more by the bell.

-

Erik sits with Charles and Hank at lunch. Charles doesn’t know who’s more shocked, everybody else in the cafeteria, Hank, or himself.

Erik just looks nonchalant as he munches through an apple with his abnormally sharp teeth. He gives Charles a chocolate muffin and watches him eat every last bite with eagle eyes, and Charles feels kind of a little scared at Erik watching him so intensely and fucking elated that Erik is sitting with him at lunch but also kind of confused about Erik making him eat a muffin.

But Erik looks pleased when Charles says it was really nice. Hank just makes a strangled noise at Erik’s toothy grin and tries to disappear into his yoghurt.

-

After school, Erik is waiting for him again. “Do you want to come over to mine?” Erik asks, and Charles almost makes himself dizzy with how fast he nods.

“I have to finish that calculus assignment that’s due,” Erik says as they walk down the road. “We can do it together.”

Charles hasn’t started that particular assignment himself, mostly because he’s been too busy wanking furiously over Erik. “That would be great,” Charles says, even if he’s disappointed that the plan seems to be studying and not making out.

“Mama, I’m home!” Erik says as he walks into a small, cosy looking home after about a twenty minute walk in the opposite direction of Charles’s. He must be walking at least half an hour back everytime he walks Charles to and from school.

A woman pops out of a room from down the hall, wearing a uniform. Her hair is brown, thick and curly around her kind face. She’s smiling wide and her nail polish is chipped and her shoes scuffed from work and Charles thinks she’s absolutely beautiful.

“Erik, Mäuschen, I was just leaving for work. Oh, who’s this?” Her hazel eyes alight on Charles.

“Hello, I’m Charles,” Charles smiles and holds out his hand palm up in a traditionally submissive greeting. Erik’s mum looks positively delighted to see him and grips his wrist quickly, hands firm like her son’s. “I’m Edie,” she continues, “oh look at you, aren’t you a treasure.”

Charles flushes up to his hairline and ducks his head, pleased that Edie seems to like him.

“Mama,” Erik whines, and Charles finds it so endearing how Erik acts around his mother. Who would’ve thought, Erik Lehnsherr, a mother’s boy?

“There’s dinner in the fridge,” Edia says to Erik, “I really have to go or I’ll be late. Nice to meet you, Charles,” she smiles at Charles, kisses Erik on the cheek, and leaves after whispering something in Erik’s ear. Charles is fascinated at the redness that spreads across Erik’s cheeks.

“What did she say to you?” Charles asks when Edie has left.

“Nothing,” Erik says, stone faced. “I’ll show you my room.”

Erik’s room is neat, but there is a hamper in the corner overflowing with dark clothing. Charles is curiously looking around at the posters on the wall when Erik grabs him and pushes him up against the door and kisses him forcefully.

Charles gets with the program pretty quick. He hangs off of Erik’s broad shoulders and surrenders his mouth, curiously twining his tongue around Erik’s demanding one. Whines when Erik breaks the kiss, but then tilts his chin up, gasping breathlessly as Erik bites down his neck. Erik slips his hands up under the sweater and shirt he’s wearing and palms his nipples, running his thumbs over the sensitive nubs.

Charles goes weak at the knees and moans helplessly, clinging to Erik. His dick has gone from soft to rock hard in like zero point five seconds flat and all his blood is leaving his brain and making him giddy.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about doing this to you all weekend,” Erik says into his neck. Charles answers by whimpering when Erik bites down hard and starts to suck a dark mark just under his chin.

“Erik, oh god,” Charles breathes and then arches when Erik pinches one of his nipples. His hardness comes in contact with Erik’s and Charles is going crazy, Erik’s making him go nuts, holy shit Erik’s dick is hard, and huge. He tries to press his crotch closer, wanting to grind, but Erik pulls away and traps him hard against the door by his shoulders.

“Don’t do that,” Erik grits out, “it makes me want to do things to you that you won’t like.”

Charles moans loud at the words and his hips stutter, “please, Erik,” he pleads, “I’ll let you do anything to me.”

Erik breathes in deeply and lets it out. “You don’t mean that. What I want to do to you-”

“I do,” Charles insists, “I want you to do whatever you want, please, I want to be good for you.”

Erik looks at him for a second, breath held, before he exhales in a rush and smashes their mouths together, tugging Charles hair to tilt his head up for him. Charles goes limp in his hold, moaning at the slight pain.

“On the bed,” Erik commands and steps back from him. Charles takes a wobbly step forward. “Crawl,” Erik says, voice deep with arousal, and Charles can’t deny him, slips to his knees, feels himself sinking slowly into a sweet haze as he crawls.

Charles pulls himself onto the dark duvet and then Erik is there, lowering him down, helping him out of his sweater and shirt. Grey eyes go dark at the purple green bruise over his ribs but Erik only kisses it lightly, and then licks up to his nipples. Charles throws his head back, moaning, can’t help spreading his legs further and pulling Erik’s head closer in by his dark red hair.

Erik pulls back and grabs his wrists, pushing them up over Charles’s head. He presses them into the mattress. “Keep them there, or do I need to restrain you?”

Charles’s cock strains at the words but he shakes his head, “I’ll be good,” he manages to say.

“Good boy,” Erik practically purrs. Charles feels his stomach clench in pleasure and he lets out a shaky breath at the praise. “Please,” he whimpers.

Erik hushes him and bites down his body. Sits up and wrestles Charles’s shoes and socks off, then yanks down his pants impatiently. Charles squirms, uncomfortable in his nakedness, but Erik quietens him down with a searing look.

Erik runs a beringed finger up his thigh reverently and Charles hides his face in his shoulder, embarrassed by the evidence of his arousal. His face flames even more when Erik chuckles at his shyness.

“You haven’t subbed for anyone before, have you?” Erik asks. Charles can’t speak, just shakes his head no. Peeks curiously through his lashes when Erik makes a strangled noise and rests his forehead on his hip. “I shouldn’t-” he groans, “I’ll ruin you.”

Charles wants to be ruined. “Please,” he breathes again, “Erik, anything.”

And Erik makes another noise and then practically rips Charles’s underwear off, baring him completely. Charles’s cock makes a slapping noise as it’s freed from its confines and bounces up against his stomach, flushed and already weeping at the tip. His hips arch without meaning to but Erik just pins him down, fingers bruisingly forceful against his easily marked skin.

“Be still,” Erik orders, Command slinking into the low words. Charles is now unaware of his previous embarrassment and just nods, eyes huge and luminous as Erik forces his legs apart and settles between them, grabs at his dick with those hands that Charles has fantasised about for years, makes Charles cry out and struggle to stop himself from bucking up into the hold. Fingers explore down to his balls, roll them gently and then explore further down and Charles has to hold his breath as they brush over his hole. “Oh god please,” he begs and realises that he’s started to cry, tears running down the side of his face and into his hair.

Shushing him, Erik just runs his fingers back up and grabs his weeping cock again, pulls once, then twice, and then bites Charles on the inside of his thigh. Charles sees white, jaw dropping open soundlessly as his body convulses in orgasm.

He comes back, drowsy, to see Erik lying next to him, propped up on an elbow. He looks simultaneously pleased and predatory, his fingers playing with one of Charles’s nipples.

“You came without my permission,” he says and digs a nail into vulnerable flesh.

“I’m sorry,” Charles cries, mortified. He’s never come so fast in his life and what Erik must think of him now, undisciplined and desperate and so inexperienced.

“Hm,” is all Erik says as he tortures Charles’s overly sensitive nipple into puffiness and redness, and Charles just lies there, taking it and trying not to squirm away, trying not to squirm closer, tears leaking from his clenched shut eyes.

When Charles starts to wonder if he can take anymore, Erik scratches down to his stomach, leaving red marks in his wake. Gathers up Charles’s come in his fingers and pushes them against Charles’s plush lips. Charles moans around them and sucks off his own come, not minding the bitter taste, and continues to lave his tongue over Erik’s beringed fingers, watching through half lidded eyes as Erik stares at his mouth, transfixed.

Erik scoops up more come and feeds him again and again, until most of it Charles’s spend is gone, and then kisses him hungrily, chasing the taste of Charles on his tongue. He pinches Charles’s hurting nipple again, making him hiss, and then switches nipples and works that one into matching swollenness, leaving Charles panting and sweating in his sheets.

“I think you deserve to be punished,” Erik says, his tone casual, and Charles whimpers because isn’t this punishment enough? “Don’t you think so, Charles?”

Charles fights to get words out of the haze he finds himself in, “yes, Erik,” he croaks.

“Good.” With that, Erik sits and manhandles his limp body up and over his clothed lap, uncaring about Charles’s come smearing over his jeans. The rough material chaffs against Charles’s sensitive cock and he gasps in pain as his sore nipples make contact with the sheets. He squirms for a moment, unmoored, until Erik presses a hand down on his lower back and anchors him. A hardness pokes into his side; Erik’s erection hasn’t subsided at all.

“Ten,” Erik simply says, taking off his rings and placing them on the bedside table. “I expect you to count.” And then he smacks Charles, hard, over the curve of his arse. Charles yelps, body jolting, and he tries to cover his vulnerable behind with his hands.

Erik growls his displeasure and yanks Charles’s hands up to the small of his back, making him grip his own wrists. “Five more, and count, Charles.”

If it’s even possible, the second smack across his arse is even harder. Charles howls, and then forces out “two.” He’s crying freely now, but he settles a little when Erik praises him. “Good boy. You’re going to take this so well, baby.”

And then Erik begins to lay into him, his palm an unrelenting surface against him. By the tenth smack Charles has stopped howling and cries silently. He’s managed to get hard again, but it’s secondary to the burning of his arse, the need to be good for Erik while he’s punished.

“Fourteen,” he hiccups, body limp, completely surrendering. He doesn’t even flinch when Erik runs a hand over red skin.

“Beautiful, you’re amazing, just one more,” Erik murmurs and then lifts his palm. Hits him so hard that Charles moves an inch further up the bed.

“Fifteen,” he breathes. And then Charles is floating, his limbs lead heavy and eyes half lidded. Erik could keep smacking him and he would take it with no complaint, would welcome it, would ask for more if he could form words.

“So good for me, baby, you’ve done so well,” Charles only half registers the words, but they inspire sparks of spiraling pleasure throughout his body. He’s only slightly aware of Erik pulling out his own cock and stripping it ruthlessly with a hand, curling over it and gritting his teeth as he comes, spilling white strips of semen over Charles’s reddened cheeks. Charles purrs at the sensation, welcoming the sting.

Once Erik is done gasping for breath he gently lays Charles face down on the bed, disappears and comes back with a warm, damp washcloth and some lotion. Wipes Charles down of come, rolling him over to get at his cock, now half-hard. Charles only makes a small noise when his bottom comes into contact with the sheets and goes with Erik’s pull to get him onto his stomach again.

Murmuring praises, Erik gently rubs lotion into his stinging flesh. When he’s done he strips down to his underwear and shirt and kisses Charles, pulling him into his arms as Charles find his way back into awareness and out of subspace.

Blinking, Charles makes a small sound. Erik grins with all his sharp teeth at him and tugs lightly at his messy hair. “You were so good, you went down so well,” he says, “perfect.”

Charles lights up even as his cheeks heat. “I wasn’t though,” he mutters, “I came too fast,” and he buries his head into the pillow in shame. The world is still slightly murky around him and he feels lethargic, but satiated, still floating lightly on his high.

“Hey,” Erik uses his hair to manhandle him into looking him in the eye. Charles’s gaze skitters away and Erik grips a little harder, forcing him to focus. “It was your first time subbing, I shouldn’t have expect anything more. We’ll work on it.”

Charles bites his swollen lower lip, “okay.”

“Say it, Charles, it was your first time, and I’ll help you be better next time.”

“It was my first time, and you’ll help me be better next time,” Charles obediently repeats and Erik kisses him, deep and hot and possessively.

“Hungry?” Erik asks after they’ve lazed around in bed for an hour, Charles trying to hide his nakedness under sheets shyly as he fully emerges from subspace, and Erik not letting him, a silly grin on his face as he’d wrestled the sheets out of Charles’s hold. He’d bit and sucked more marks into Charles’s skin, over his shoulders and down his belly and over his thighs, until Charles was a mess of dark red hickeys and teeth marks and quivering limbs. There is no mistaking Erik’s claim on his body now.

Charles stomach finds that it’s the perfect time to growl. Nodding through his blush, Charles watches Erik get up and hand him his underwear and a large black shirt. Erik stares at him with hawk eyes as he slips out of bed, flushing further as he pulls on his worse for wear boxer briefs and slips on the shirt. It’s slightly too big for him, hanging past his hips, but surprisingly not overly too big around the shoulders; he must’ve grown last time he scrutinized himself in the mirror.

They both pad barefoot into the kitchen. Erik pulls him into his lap and feeds him cheesy pasta that he’d pulled out of the fridge and heated up in the microwave. Charles stomach feels warm, and not just from the food.

“I was serious about the calculus assignment,” Erik says as he feeds Charles the last mouthful. Charles pouts but they end up lying on the floor of Erik’s room, dutifully completing their homework. Charles is pleasantly surprised how easily Erik grasps math, even better than him at some points, and Erik shrugs when he points it out. “I want to be a mechanical engineer, I have to be good at it.”

Erik’s intelligence and aspirations are hot, and Charles finds himself biting his lip. Erik’s eyes go dark as they watch his teeth make indents into his lip, but they continue with the assignment until it’s time for Charles to leave.

Erik walks him home, kisses him senseless up against his front door, pressing his fingers into the marks he has left on Charles’s pale neck, as if wanting to remind himself that they’re still there, remind Charles that they’re still there.

“See you tomorrow,” he says and Charles can only nod dazedly. “Don’t touch yourself,” Erik whispers, gripping Charles’s dick in his pants, which is valiantly hardening, “this is mine now, not yours. If you want to masturbate, ask me first.”

Erik’s going to drive him insane, Charles thinks. “Yes, Erik,” he croaks and Erik lets him go, walks out the gate with a wave and a sharp toothed smile.

When Charles gathers himself enough, hoping that nobody down the street has been looking out any windows to see him trying to will down his erection, he opens the front door to find Raven standing there.

She points a finger at him, enraged. “You wouldn’t answer any of my texts, you’re late, what the fuck is going on with Erik Lehnsherr- is that a hickey- are you wearing his shirt?!”

Charles sighs.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote 10,000 words for chapter 2 and as I was editing it was like 'wow, silv, this is trash,' and canned the whole lot haha. Rewrote it, and I'm still not entirely happy with the end product, but this is a whole lot better! And yeah, you may have noticed that the chapter count went up, all my characters keep doing things I didn't think they would and scenes get longer and I can't follow a story outline for the life of me lol. <3
> 
> As always, all mistakes are mine.

Erik holds Charles’s hand all the way to school the next morning.

Charles kind of feels so happy that he might explode at any given moment, and he’s so preoccupied with the sensation of Erik’s rings digging into his palm and hoping to God that his grip isn’t sweaty that he’s hardly aware of Raven’s disgusted looks burning into the back of head the entire time.

Erik also kisses Charles at his locker before heading to class, and Charles does explode a little even as Raven makes a gagging sound next to them. And then Erik starts to kiss down Charles’s neck and Raven screeches, whacking the Dom with her social studies textbook. “Hands off my brother, you brute!”

The look Erik gives Raven would probably set fire to a lesser person, but Raven just gowers right back. They have a staring contest right over Charles there in the hallway, and said sub just turns redder and redder at the amount of whispers gathering around them.

“Raven,” he hisses, “stop it, it’s fine, people are staring.”

“Let them,” Raven snarls, and Erik gets this look in his eyes that approaches respect. He nods his head once at her, turns back to Charles and gives him a chaste kiss that still doesn’t fail to send his heart into palpitations. “See you, _schätzchen_ ,” he murmurs against Charles’s lips, and disappears down the hallway.

“I can’t believe I ever thought he was hot,” Raven grits out, and points her finger at Charles. “Don’t let him take liberties with you, oh my god, you’re my big brother, I don’t want to think about it,” she groans, and Charles flushes up to his hairline thinking about the liberties Erik’s already taken from him.

“Raven,” he says, mortified, but she keeps going, “don’t let him do anything before he gives you a courtship collar, he’s totally the kind of Dom to prey on pretty little subs and leave them in the kneeling in the dust when something better comes along-”

Charles squares his shoulders, “Raven, he _wouldn’t_ , he’s better than that-”

“And if he hurts you I’ll fucking rip every one of his earrings out and force him to swallow them,” Raven finishes, “because you’re my big brother, and somebody has to protect you,” and Charles is pretty sure it’s supposed to be the other way around with him protecting his younger sister, but Raven looks so passionate about it he doesn’t say anything, just feels kind of all fuzzy inside because Raven _loves him_.

“Oh no, don’t go getting all sobby on me,” Raven rolls her eyes, but she gathers him up into her arms anyway when his eyes goes all watery, and Charles smiles into her shoulder even as she sighs out, “ _subs,_ always so weepy,” but Charles knows she doesn’t mean it, not really.

“Raven, I really do appreciate it,” Charles says, breathing in her signature jasmine and musk scent, “but Erik’s rather lovely, he truly wouldn’t do anything to hurt me,” _unless I asked for it,_ his brain unhelpfully adds.

Raven still looks dubious when she steps back from him, “uh huh. It’s still my job, as the intelligent younger sibling, to be healthily skeptical,” and Charles thinks that’s fair just as the bell rings.

-

 _Why are shelves so unfairly_ _tall_ , Charles thinks grumpily as he stand up on his tippy toes. His fingers just brush the spine of the book he’s reaching for and with a huff he stretches just _that much more_ and manages to get his fingertips around the edge. He gives a tiny sound of triumph just as something touches the bare skin at the small of his back.

Charles squeaks and jumps but hands wrap around his middle and then a body is herding him up against the bookshelves, pinning him, and he has a split second of panic before Erik’s huffing a laugh up against his ear.

“Erik!” Charles gasps, “what are you _doing_ ,” but Erik only replies by sucking hard at the back of his neck and Charles goes placid in Erik’s hold, fingers twitching in the grip he has on the shelf in front of him. Erik covers his smaller hands with his as Charles moans quietly, presses them in a fraction harder to make sure Charles’s arms stay splayed apart and runs his fingers down them to frame the back of his head, leaving goosebumps blooming in their wake.

Erik’s in the middle of sucking a third mark just under his ear, fingers twisted into Charles’s hair to pull his head to one side, when Charles manages to get a clear thought. “We’re in the library, Erik, stop!” He whispers, even if he really, really doesn’t want Erik to stop.

It only makes Erik suck viciously for a second, teeth digging into tender, bruised skin, and Charles gasps, trembling against the shelves, argument far from his mind as Erik makes a pleased sound and moves onto another mark. When he’s done with that, he grabs Charles by his middle and manhandles him around, pushes in between his legs and hikes one up against his hip, _grinds_ into Charles.

Charles scrabbles for a new handhold, making a helpless sound as Erik tips his head up and goes to town on the front of his throat, marking him up as he keeps a steady rhythm with his lean hips. Charles is pretty sure that his throat is going to be more bruises than actual skin by the end of this, but he really can’t make himself care when Erik’s pressing up against him like this, a warm, unrelenting force squeezing him up against the library shelves. He makes another sound, unknowingly loud, and Erik shushes him by capturing his mouth in his, his hand a hot brand against Charles’s aching throat, keeping him pinned.

When Erik pulls away Charles tries to chase him, pink mouth dropped open, but Erik keeps him where he wants him and eyes up the mess he’s made of Charles’s neck.

“Better,” he grins, teeth bright and sharp and smug, and steps away from Charles, leaving the sub stumbling, face flushed and uncomfortable in his pants.

“What was that for?” Charles asks after he’s gathered himself enough. Erik, the infuriating arsehole, just shrugs and adjusts his leather jacket. Charles is at least a little mollified so see that Erik isn’t entirely unaffected from the bulge currently filling out the front of his jeans.

“See you at lunch,” the Dom says, pats Charles on the head and disappears around the shelves. Charles is just left gaping, hand up against his neck. He’s pretty sure Erik has class during Charles’s current study period, and did the Dom just ditch class for ten minutes to come find Charles in the library and ravish him up against the shelves? And then he remembers that he didn’t get his book and swears, looking up at the offending object high above him. Grumbles, because Erik could’ve at least gotten his book for him.

Later, when he looks in the mirror in the library bathroom he counts eleven love bites marking up his pale skin, spanning from his chin down to his collarbones, and that’s only the ones that he can see himself. 

Charles isn’t really sure to be mortified, or intensely pleased. He settles for a mix of both.

 -

“Why are you wearing a scarf?” Hank says outside the cafeteria. Charles goes bright red. “No reason,” he mumbles, and is intensely glad that he’d found the scarf at the very bottom of the mess in his locker because Erik’s made sure he’s the most marked up sub in school and Charles is definitely not ready to cope with the stares.

“Uh huh,” Hank eyes him, and then stops in his tracks. Charles follows his eyesight to see that he’s spotted his and Charles’s normal table, except that it’s already occupied by two people. Namely Erik and Raven, who are currently engaged in the biggest staring contest of the century.

“Oh dear,” Charles whimpers, and turns to go, but Erik sees him and stands, and then Raven sees him too and waves aggressively, shouting, “Charles!”

 And he’s got no choice but to go sit between the two, with Hank settling rather nervously across from them on the other side of the table. Immediately, Erik hands him a chocolate muffin, which Charles blinks at, and Raven makes a frustrated noise and pushes it away, saying, “Charles is trying to be healthy. Here, Charles,” and hands him her apple.

Charles really, really wants that muffin, but Raven is glaring daggers at it, and he kind of doesn’t want to be set on fire by just touching it, so he sticks to the apple. He looks at Erik anxiously, but the Dom just pulls some yoghurt out of his bag and places it in front of Charles as well. It’s passionfruit flavoured, Charles’s favourite.

“Thanks, Erik,” Charles blushes, peeling it open, eyeing Raven as she huffs, but yoghurt is healthy, so she can’t take it away from him without looking like a bit of a hypocrite.

“What’s with the scarf, Charles?” Raven says instead, eyes suspicious, and Charles tries to look as calm as possible. “I’m cold,” he says, and it _is_ getting into autumn. Kind of.

But Raven doesn’t take that for an answer, and goes and tries to wrestle it off of him. Choking, Charles tries to bat her away, but he’s kind of resigned to his fate already. Erik doesn’t come to his rescue, either, just sits there, munching at a sandwich and looking disgustingly smug.

 “This is all your fault,” Charles hisses at him as Raven makes an outraged noise when she finally manages to untangle his scarf to reveal the mess of his neck. She points a finger at Erik accusingly. “How! What? It’s only been half a day! Keep your hands off of Charles, you creep!”

“Raven!” Charles tries, and then Erik goes and makes everything worse by pulling Charles into his lap. Charles squawks, and Raven goes a very unattractive shade of red, and Hank just concentrates very hard on unwrapping a cheese stick.

“Unhand my brother!” Raven yells and brandishes her butter knife. Charles puts his head in his hands, groaning. _How is this my life?_

-

Charles meets Hank after school at chess club. “Save me,” he whimpers over a chessboard, and Hank just kind of looks to the side as he nudges a pawn forward.

“I don’t really think I can do anything that would help,” Hank says, apologetically.

“Can I come over to yours?” Charles begs, “please, I won’t complain if you want to play World of Warcraft and need me to heal during raids, just, I can’t take it, Raven’s going to shank him with a pencil and god I don’t know what Erik’s going to do if she actually does.”

Hank unenthusiastically nudges his pawn forward another pace after Charles makes his move, and Charles doesn’t even have to think about taking it with a bishop. Honestly, Hank is the worst at this game. “Uhm, I can’t tonight,” Hank says, uncomfortable.

“What? Why?” Charles eyes Hank, and then says “no, Hank, horses move in an L shape, we’ve been over this,” as Hank tries to nudge his horse diagonally over to one of Charles’s pawns.

Hank sighs and dutifully corrects himself. “Uh, I’ve got a date,” he mumbles, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Charles fumbles his castle. “What? Who asked you? When!?”

“Alex Summers, just last week,” Hank mutters, bright red, and Charles gapes. “Didn’t he call you hobbit feet all through primary? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Yeah, he apologised,” Hank says, “and it’s not like you told me about Lehnsherr,” he accuses.

Charles shifts in his seat, guilty. “I’m sorry, Hank, it’s just, I didn’t really know what was going on and when I did I kind of didn’t believe it?”

“Okay, I get that,” Hank nods, “I forgive you, you forgive me, we’re even?”

“Of course,” Charles says, and thrashes Hank easily in three moves. Afterwards, when chess club is over and Charles has once again proved his superiority, Erik and Raven are waiting outside, like glowering bodyguards competing for the same job. The rest of the chess club walks as fast as possible away from them, looking fearful for their lives as they scamper down the hallway.

Raven grabs at Charles’s hand first and tugs him away from Erik. “Come on Charles, we’re going home, and _Lehnsherr’s_ not invited,” she hisses. Charles makes puppy eyes at Hank, who just puts his hands up in surrender and backs away, “good luck!” he says, disappearing around a corner. Damn him, but really, Charles can’t exactly blame him.

Erik narrows his eyes at her and grabs at Charles’s shoulder, “at least let him choose,” he says.

Raven huffs and stops, looks Charles in the eye. “Charles?” She questions.

Charles grimaces at her, apologetic, and pulls his hand out of hers, stepping back into Erik’s side. “I’m sorry, Raven,” he begs, and for a second she looks hurt, but then she just looks angry.

“Fine,” she snaps, “fine, don’t listen to me, but don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart, find someone else to cry on,” she turns on her heel and stalks off.

“Raven!” Charles gives Erik an apologetic look, “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere,” he tells the Dom, and chases after his sister. “Raven! Raven, wait, please, _Raven_ ,” he whimpers, when she doesn’t slow, but she stops at his pleading, unable to leave a distressed sub alone. She turns, face screwed up in anger, and Charles grabs at her hands. 

“Raven, please, I really like him,” he begs, “I swear, I’m not going to replace you with him or anything, you’re my baby _sister,_ I love _you,_ ” and shit, he’s actually tearing up, “but I really, really like Erik, and I want to be with him for as long as he’ll have me. But I don’t want to make you angry with me.” He sniffs and rubs at a wet eye. _Damn these sub hormones!_

Raven struggles to hold into her anger and her face finally falls, and she sighs, pulling Charles into her arms. Charles buries his face into her neck, and she shushes him, placated by his anguish. “I’m sorry Charles, I didn’t mean to to make you chose between us,” she apologises, patting his head soothingly. “I just, I kind of think I’m a Dom, and I guess I went a little overboard with protecting a sub I think as mine?” she confesses.

“Oh, Raven,” Charles breathes, relieved, but not surprised in the least, and simultaneously relaxes and hugs her tighter. “I’m so happy you’ve settled, I forgive you, oh, we have to go to the Dynamic Center and declare your dynamic!”

“We can do it on the weekend, Charles, it’s not going to change any time soon,” Raven smiles, and thumbs away one of his tears. “Look, you can go to Erik’s, but you have to be home before nine, okay?”

Charles nods, relieved and so happy, kisses his sister on the cheek in thanks. “And if he even _thinks_ of hurting you, I’ll fucking force him to eat his stupid leather jacket,” she threatens. “You hear that, Lehnsherr, if you dare to hurt Charles, I’ll fucking shank you!”

Erik, walking closer to them in the otherwise empty hallway, shrugs. “Fair enough,” he says, “I’ll provide the knife.”

“You better,” Raven mutters, and settles a hand on the back of Charles’s neck, and Charles goes still, eyes wide, as Raven looks at him sternly. “Remember, before nine, or I’ll find you and drag you home kicking and screaming, and I don’t care if you’re my big brother, I’ll spank you.”

Charles goes bright red, spluttering, “Raven, no, I swear I’ll be back before nine!” He doesn’t even want to entertain the thought of Raven disciplining him, god, that’s the most horrifying thought he’s ever had.

“Good,” Raven squeezes his nape just one more time, and lets him go. “Lehnsherr, treat him right,” she orders, nose up in the air, “I expect to see a collar before anything serious happens.”

“Raven, stop!” Charles covers his burning face in his hands. Him and Erik are nowhere near a collaring, they’d only been properly dating, and Charles is guessing here because he doesn’t really know if what they’d been doing really counted _as dating_ , for like two days.

But Erik doesn’t look taken aback. “Okay, Xavier,” he says, reels Charles into his arms. Raven narrows her eyes at him, and he bares his teeth back in a mockery of a smile.

“I still don’t like you,” Raven spits, “but Charles does, so I guess I’ll allow this. Now leave, before I change my mind.”

Erik doesn’t need telling twice. He pulls Charles down the long hallway, and Charles waves over his shoulder at his sister, smiling. “Thank you Raven, love you, see you later!”

Raven sighs, and waves back. “Love you too, Charles. And remember, before nine!”

“I’ll remember!” Charles stops waving as they round a corner, and smiles at Erik’s hand enveloping his, silver rings glinting in the shitty school lights.

“Your sister has balls,” Erik says, when he’s got Charles in his room and on his bed, safely cocooned in Erik’s arms and bright red from the attention Erik is currently lavishing upon his already marked up collarbones.

“She’s always been headstrong,” Charles manages, hands tight on his own wrists that Erik had ordered him to hold behind his back. “I honestly wasn’t surprised that she’s a Dom, I’ve been waiting for her to settle into it for years,” he gasps as Erik pushes up his shirt and mouths at his nipple.

“Hm,” Erik mutters, “she obvious loves you,” and his tone is begrudgingly admiring. “Still fucking annoying,” he grumbles, and takes his anger out on Charles’s poor, unsuspecting nipple with his stupidly sharp shark teeth.  

“Oh god!” Charles pants, and Erik tips him backwards onto the sheets, shoves his way in between Charles’s thighs. Charles is forced to arch over his own arms held behind him, and he quivers as he and Erik’s cocks brush up against each other in their pants, hips twitching helplessly.

Erik grinds down onto him and Charles makes a high breathy noise, throwing his head back, “Erik, please,” he whimpers.

“Please, what?” Erik asks, the bastard, and flicks Charles’s already abused nipple with a fingernail. Charles flinches, “I don’t know,” he cries, “I don’t- Erik, please, anything, _anything_ , sir, just do _something_.”

Erik looks consideringly at him, pierced eyebrow raised. “Anything is a pretty big promise, Charles,” he says, voice dark and heavy, “are you going to be able to keep it?”

“Yes, _yes,_ I will, just _please,_ ” Charles pleads, and Erik says, “since you beg so prettily,” and yanks Charles’s pants open, turns him onto his front and pulls them off his legs entirely, wrestling his underwear off also. Charles just gasps into the sheets, his flush spreading down to his shoulders as his dick drips freely beneath him, lets Erik position his body to the Dom’s pleasure. 

He ends up on his knees, his shirt tugged up over his head and down his arms to twist around his wrists behind his back, and since he can’t balance on his hands or elbows his face is squished into the mattress, his cheek creasing up from the sheets. The position leaves him entirely exposed to the Dom behind him, his arse high up in the air, Erik kneeling between his spread thighs and contently kneading his bare buttocks.

“Still pink,” Erik muses, pleased, and spanks Charles once more for good measure, making the sub gasp and jolt forward from the force. The previously only lightly flushed skin on Charles’s right buttcheek blooms bright red in the shape of Erik’s hand, darker red where Erik’s rings have caught him. Charles keens at the hit, but it’s not enough to take him out of his mind, and he squirms, uncomfortable with how exposed he feels, Erik can see _everything_ and he feels self conscious of every flaw that is currently on display.

“Erik,” he begs, and he doesn’t even know if its to plead for Erik to let him go so he can curl up safely in his clothes again or for the Dom to ruin him past the point of caring about anything but pleasing Erik.

“Shh, Charles,” Erik says, “ _be quiet_ ,” and the Command makes Charles go pliant and silent, his dick straining between his quivering thighs.

“That’s better, baby, you’re so good for me,” Erik praises, and then he places a hand on each one of Charles’s cheeks and spreads them apart, and Charles finds himself stiffening again, ashamed and embarrassed.

But Erik only grips him tighter, digging his thumbs in and curling his fingers around Charles’s hips, not letting him squirm away. For what seems like ages he just _looks_ , and Charles can’t help but clench, uncertain, and Erik makes a strangled noise and then suddenly he _licks_ at Charles’s hole, and Charles yelps in shock and then groans helplessly, eyes rolling into the back of his head as Erik tongues around his puckered entrance.

He can’t form words because of Erik’s Command, but it doesn’t stop Charles from whining and panting into the sheets wantonly, trying to press back into Erik’s tongue, toes curling from pleasure. At the movement Erik _bites_ at his rim in punishment, and Charles lets out a choked cry, tears forming behind his squeezed shut tight eyelids. His dick is uncomfortably hard now, hanging between his thighs and drooling continuously onto the sheets as Erik soothes the bite with his tongue, and then _pushes in_.

Charles’s entire body goes tight and he fights against the building orgasm, because he can’t come yet, he hasn’t got Erik’s permission, and he fights so hard but Erik’s tongue in wriggling, hot and slick, inside him, and he starts struggling in Erik’s hold, panic taking over him.

Sensing his distress, Erik withdraws, and his voice is wrecked but pleased when he says, “good boy, you’ve learned,” and he squeezes Charles’s heavy balls in one hand, making Charles whine and sob.

“Do you deserve to come?” Erik says, rolling Charles’s testes in his palm firmly. “Have you done anything to deserve a reward today?”

Charles, wanting so much to come, hole clenching around nothing and dick drooling, can only mewl piteously as he shakes his head in a negative. He can’t think of a reason why he would be allowed to come, and he sobs into the sheets, fingers clenched tight around his own wrists inside his bonds. He wants to beg but he can’t, Erik’s Command still winding tight around his vocal chords.

“Hm,” Erik ponders, and brushes a thumb over Charles’s winking hole. Charles only has a second to react, trying to press his hips back, but then Erik is manhandling him around again and pushing him to the edge of the bed, forcing him off and down to his knees.

Charles is left staring at Erik’s dick, bulging in it’s fabric confines, right in front of his face, and Charles swears he starts to salivate. He’s completely naked, kneeling at his fully clothed Dom’s feet between his thighs, and Charles has never felt like he’d belonged anywhere more before in his life.

“Suck me off and I’ll let you come,” Erik says from above him, buries his hands in Charles’s hair to reel his face closer. Charles tips forward, knees scrambling to keep him from becoming completely unbalanced, and manages to stabilize himself. But he needs his hands to undo Erik’s button and fly, and he looks up at the Dom, confused, tugging at his bonds.

Erik grins down at him, green-grey eyes dangerous, a flush high on his sharp cheekbones. “Use you mouth, Charles,” he orders, thumbs at Charles’s plush lips, forces between his teeth to pin his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Show me how you can use this pretty tongue,” and Charles sucks eagerly at the digit. Erik’s eyes go dark and he curses underneath his breath. “You’re such a slut, aren’t you, Charles?”

Charles tears up again at the words, but he nods, he’ll be anything Erik wants, and Erik pulls his thumb out of his mouth. “Go on, then,” the Dom orders.

His face flames red in shame as he leans forward and struggles with Erik’s button, saliva soaking fabric as he wrestles it with his teeth and tongue, whimpering until he finally manages it. Gets his teeth around the metal of Erik’s fly, tugs it down with some trouble.

When he gets it down all the way, Erik yanks his head back by his hair, making him sob at the pleasure and pain it causes. Grey eyes linger over Charles’s erection, painfully red and stiff against his stomach, leaking precome everywhere.

Erik makes an amused sound and Charles’s lips quiver, but his cock twitches. “Beg for my dick, Charles,” he orders, voice husky.

Pressing his eyes closed, Charles gulps against a suddenly dry throat, licks his lips as Erik’s old Command falls away. “Please, Erik,” he whispers, so ashamed but so, so turned on, “let me- let me suck your cock.”

The foot to the left of him taps impatiently. “You can do better than that, Charles,” Erik practically purrs, and he tugs his jeans and underwear down a bit to pull out his erection. Charles stares at it, wide eyed. It’s huge and curved up slightly to the right, he doesn’t even know if he can get his mouth around it, but fuck he’s going to try, he’s already drooling.  

“Erik, _sir_ ,” he whimpers, “please, _please,_ let me suck your dick,” his cheeks warm even further, flush spilling further down to his chest, but he can’t stop, the words just keep coming, “I want to so bad, I want to choke on it, I want you to come on my face, please, please, please, sir, I’ll be so good, please let me, _please, sir, please, please_.” By the end of it Charles has started to cry properly, and Erik stares at his face, transfixed, his dick leaking in his hand.

The hand holding him back by his hair lets Charles go, and he dives forward, inexperience not getting in the way of his enthusiasm as he licks around the head of Erik’s dick, discovering the bitter taste and musk. For a few seconds Erik seems to be content letting him lick, but then shoves his head forward, force feeding Charles his dick.

Charles chokes around the huge mouthful, whimpering, but eagerly starts to suck, breathing harshly through his nose. He starts to get a rhythm going, head bobbing with Erik’s hands in his hair guiding him, his lips stretching obscenely around Erik’s dick as he licks amateaurly, trying to keep his teeth out of the way as drool drips down his chin. Erik’s dick tastes bitter from precome, the silky skin salty, but Charles fucking loves it.

Above him Erik has started to breathe heavily as he growls out praises. “Good boy, taking my dick so good, you’re amazing, fuck, your _mouth_ , I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you at school with your fucking _lips_ , I wondered how many Dom’s cocks you’d sucked to get them so red,” he confesses, and Charles groans, thinking _only you, I’ve only ever sucked your cock_.

“Come on, baby,” Erik grunts and thrusts his hips forward, and suddenly Erik’s dick is in Charles’s throat and Charles swallows in a panic, throat fluttering desperately around the intrusion. His eyes water even more and fresh tears spill down his red cheeks, joining the saliva in dripping off his chin. “ _Fuck,”_ Erik curses as Charles struggles for air around his cock, choking, but doesn’t pull away, just lets Erik use his mouth and throat, surrendering so beautifully to the assault, blue eyes hazy and shoulders limp and body pliant.

Erik fucks his mouth ruthlessly, slipping down his throat every few thrusts, precome leaking steadily. He thrusts his hips forward, once, twice, pace stuttering, and pulls back, lets Charles gasp for air for a sweet second and then comes explosively as he snaps his hips forward. Semen spills over Charles’s tongue and out of the corner of his mouth as he chokes on Erik’s spend, Erik moaning above him.

Finished, Erik lets himself rest in Charles’s mouth and the sub kneels between his legs without complaint, mouth lax and warm around his softening erection. “Clean me off,” Erik whispers, and Charles ignores his aching jaw to lick off the ejaculate and dripping saliva smeared over Erik’s dick. Erik shudders at the kitten licks over his oversensitive flesh, running his hands through Charles’s hair, tucks his himself away when he deems himself clean enough and zips up, considers the mess of saliva, tears, flushed skin and come that is Charles’s face. Looks down further to admire the plethora of marks he’s left over pale skin, bruises and teeth marks littered across Charles’s neck and collarbones and even further down onto his chest, each one telling a tale of possession and passion.

Those gorgeous blue eyes gaze up at Erik, unashamed, lashes dark and wet, and Charles is floating, gone to that sweet, warm place in his head where Erik can’t follow. Charles is vaguely aware of Erik gripping his cheek in one hand and slipping a thumb through the wet mess, pushing into his mouth and trapping his tongue. He doesn’t even realise that he’s slowly rolling his hips against Erik’s leg that he’s slipped between his thighs.

“You’re so good for me, baby, Charles, _schätzchen_ , you did so well, you’ve gone down like a dream, you can come now, come on, _come_ ,” and Charles does, at Erik’s Command, whimpering around Erik’s thumb and coming in long spurts over his own stomach, hips stuttering and toes curling.

“Beautiful,” Erik breathes and catches him by his shoulders as he slumps forward, pulling him up into the bed and lying him down, untangling his shirt from around slender wrists.

“Erik?” Charles rasps after a few minutes, making his way out through the pleasant haze that has enveloped his body. Wow, subspace is like a drug. He coughs, and then blinks when he finds a glass of water against his swollen lips. 

Erik’s watching him. “Drink,” he says, and Charles obeys, gulping cold water, feeling it soothe his sore throat. His sore throat, which ached because Erik’s _dick_ had been down it. Charles thinks he hasn’t been this proud since he beat Hank at the science fair last year.

When the glass is empty Erik sets it aside and pets his hair carefully, and Charles realises that Erik has wiped him clean and dressed him again in a pair of Erik’s underwear and another black shirt.

Erik leans down and kisses him gently. “How’s your throat?” He places his large hand over Charles’s throat and Charles sighs, tilting his head back instinctively for his Dom.

“Never better,” Charles smiles giddily, “now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to nap.” Who knew that sucking dick could be so tiring?

Erik just pulls him closer, eyes a little soft with something like wonder and affection. Rests Charles’s head on his shoulder, lets Charles run his fingers lightly over the numerous studs and rings in his ears until he falls into a light haze.

-

Charles wakes an hour later. He rolls over and feels the space next to him, frowning. It’s still warm, Erik must’ve only left a little while ago. He spots his clothes on the floor, noticing that his underwear is missing, and hopes that Erik’s put it in the wash. Rummages through his pants and finds his phone in his pocket, sighing in relief when he sees that it’s only eight.  

A low murmuring of voices comes from down the hall and Charles pulls on his pants, opening Erik’s door and poking his head out. A lovely smell meets his nose, and he follows it into the kitchen, stomach growling.

“Hello again, Charles,” Edie is at the stove, checking a pot as she smiles at him. Charles is suddenly aware that he’s wearing Erik’s shirt that bares his neck, which is covered with bruises. Face turning red, he tries to cover the worst side with his hand, “Hello, Ma’am.” He tilts his head down in submissive deference, polite, hoping that his voice isn’t too hoarse.

“None of that,” Edia says, “I’m Edie. Haven’t you told him to call me Edie, Erik?" 

Erik stands up from the table and collects Charles from where he’s standing awkwardly in the doorway. Sits down and pulls him down into his lap despite Charles’s squirming, unsure if Edie will approve.

“No,” Erik says, “I forgot.”

“Mmmhm,” Edie’s smile is knowing, like she knows that Erik and Charles have been very occupied with doing something else that certainly wasn’t talking about Erik’s mother and what she liked to be called. She isn’t exactly wrong.

Charles stops shifting around when it becomes apparent that Edie really doesn’t mind the blatant display of affection between her son and a sub. She even smiles at them fondly every few seconds as she chops up some fresh herbs on a well worn wooden chopping board. Tension seeps a little from Charles’s limbs, but he can’t help peek at Edie through his messy fringe, unused to seeing a mother in a kitchen.

“Are you staying for dinner, Charles? I’ve made krupnik.”

Despite the absolutely amazing smells, Charles has to say, “oh, I couldn’t possibly intrude.”

“You’re not intruding,” Erik says, eyes narrowing.

Edie shakes her head also, “stay, Charles, please. I’d love to get to know the submissive who’s captured my dear little mäuschen’s heart. He’s never brought someone home before.”

Erik groans and hides his face in Charles’s neck while Charles flushes happily. He’s the first sub Erik’s ever brought home to his mother?

“Mama, don’t say things like that in front of Charles, it’s embarrassing,” Erik whines, but Edie just laughs, and Charles says, “I would love to stay, if it’s not too much of a bother.”

“So polite,” Edie says, and she looks immensely pleased as she pulls out three missmatching bowls from the cupboard. After turning the burner off and ladling the steaming soup out, she sprinkles fresh parsley over it and brings all three bowls over in her hands, balancing two in her left.

“Erik, let the poor boy sit on his own for a while,” she says as she takes a seat. Shamefaced and grumbling, Erik lets Charles slip from his lap into his own seat and examine the soup.

It’s thick, full of barley and healthy chunks of potato and meat. Charles has never had something like this before, everything he’d had at the mansion and what Sarah cooked for him and Raven was always fancy, perfectly portioned cuts of expensive meat and vegetables and delicate sauces. Dinner at Hank’s was always Chinese takeout. This looks like the most delicious thing Charles has ever seen.

And when he takes a spoonful and sips at it politely, it is the most delicious thing he’s ever had. “This is amazing, Mrs Lehnsherr, it’s really, really good,” he praises, unable to bring himself to call her Edie. She his Dom’s guardian Dom, and deserves respect from him.

“Thank you, Charles. Erik, you really could learn something from him.”

“Your cooking is the best, I tell you all the time,” Erik grumbles into his soup, practically inhaling it. Charles blinks at such bad table manners, eyes Edie apprehensively, but Edie just looks pleased as she eats her soup at a more sedate pace.

What follows is the warmest, most comfortable family dinner Charles has ever experienced, and as he sits in the well-used kitchen with cutlery that doesn’t match while he eats the best soup of his life, sitting next to Erik whose slurping really is rather horrific, and hearing Edie’s bright laugh, he finds he doesn’t ever want this to end.

But in does, and Erik walks him home dutifully, walking him up to his front door at precisely five to nine. Even if they’re a few minutes early, Raven is still standing in the doorway when they arrive, the hallway light spilling out around her form.

“Lehnsherr,” she nods, and hold her hand out, palm down, a Dom’s greeting. Charles wonders when she’d grown up so much without him noticing as Erik grasps her hand and tips their grip sideways into a equal greeting between Doms. “Xavier,” he says, and then Raven is holding her hand out to Charles and Charles slips his under her’s, letting Raven grasp his wrist and pull him closer into the doorway.

“Bye, Erik,” Charles smiles, and despite Raven’s grumble of protest kisses Erik on the cheek shyly. The Dom grins, sharklike at him, gives Raven a challenging look and kisses him back on the lips. To Raven’s credit, she only makes a argumentative sound, but lets them say goodbye.

“See you tomorrow,” Erik says, and then he’s off back down to the street.

“What a dick,” Raven growls, and shuts the door. Charles smiles at her and she rolls her eyes, “right, let’s go watch Charmed, and you can tell me _everything_.”

Charles goes bright red, and Raven groans. “You’re hopeless,” she mutters, “come on, you slut,” and Charles squawks, indignant, as his younger sister pulls him into the lounge.

-

This time, Shaw doesn’t mess around with ambushing Charles outside a bathroom. He’s standing next to Charles’s locker between classes, leaning up against the metal, talking to Emma Frost, the other Dom in her signature tight white skirt and cheerleading jacket.

Shaw spots him over her shoulder and Charles doesn’t have time to turn around and go _anywhere else_ , because Shaw barks “ _down_ ,” Command a tonne of bricks on Charles’s shoulders, and Charles can only desperately lock his knees against it and crash into the lockers next to him, holding on for dear life.

Hank, next to him, doesn’t have the luxury of having something to grab, drops jarringly down to his knees, whimpering. Around them their fellow students titter with laughter. Charles grits his teeth.

“Well then, the little chick has a backbone after all,” Shaw grins, ignoring Hank cowering on the floor, watching Charles struggle to stay standing.

“ _Down_ ,” Shaw Commands again, and Charles thinks he’s going to crack a tooth with how hard he’s clenching his jaw, his knees are quivering and everything in him is screaming to obey such a hard hitting order, but he bites out “f-fuck you,” because he’s Erik’s, not Shaw’s.

Shaw’s relatively pleasant expression goes dark, and he grates “ _down,_ ” a third time, and Charles has never experienced such a violent Command before and he simply can’t stay standing anymore, a third Command is too much to bear, stacked on top of the other two, and crashes down to his knees, gasping from the pain.

There’s laughter around them, some cruel and some uncomfortable, and Shaw puffs up at it, shoulders strong. Emma just examines her fingernails, disinterested.  

Shoes come into Charles’s vision from where he’s staring at the floor, biting back sobs. “Lick them,” Shaw Commands, and Charles fights, but his body betrays him and he goes to his hands and knees. Somehow he only ends up resting his forehead against Shaw’s disgustingly expensive loafers, internally screaming.

“ _Lick them,_ ” Shaw snarls, “like the weak, snivelling little cum bitch you are, only good for crawling around on your knees, _lick them_.”

The strength of the Commands makes Charles nauseous. He chokes on a small amount of bile and is incapable of anything else but sticking his tongue out, tears of shame trickling down his cheeks. He only gets a small taste of dirt and leather before someone tackles Shaw into the lockers.

Charles slumps sideways, heaving sobs of relief, and Erik is snarling into Shaw’s face, pulling his fist back to punch the other Dom, but then Azazel is there, materialising out of the crowd around them and grabbing Erik by the arm.

Erik spits at Azazel, yanking his arm out of his hold and glaring back at Shaw, holding him up against the lockers, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing, leave Charles _alone_ ,” he bares his teeth at Azazel when the other Dom goes to pull him away, and Azazel narrows his eyes at Erik but stays his distance.

“I’m just showing you what he really is,” Shaw is grinning, gesturing down to Charles, who’s curled up into a ball on the floor, shivering quietly, eyes gone hazy. “Is this what you really want, Erik, a spineless little hole to fuck?”

“Don’t you fucking call him that!” Erik yells, and despite Azazel he punches Shaw right in the face. Azazel jumps forward and drags Erik away, but Erik only turns and swings at him also, snarling, and they go down in a mass of limbs.

Hank, recovering from the only Command forced on him, crawls to Charles, touches him gingerly on the shoulder. “Charles?” He whispers. Charles only shivers in response, unable to talk, Shaw’s Commands have him swimming through thick, murky water, he can’t tell what’s up from down, and he feels so dizzy and sick and all he wants is Erik and Raven and _home_. His vision blurs and Hank manages to catch him before he collapses.

Erik’s managed to get back to his feet, and Azazel scrambles up also, yelling in fury, but Emma is there, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Sugar, calm down, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

Azazel shoves her hand off of his shoulder but stays back and Erik spits blood at him, then turns to Shaw, who’s grinning maniacally and touching his own split lip. “Leave Charles alone,” Erik growls, fists tight at his sides, his grey eyes furious. “Or I swear I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Now, I think that’s a little extreme,” Shaw laughs, flapping his hand. Bristling, Erik advances on him, but there’s a commotion down the hall, a teacher approaches. Shaw straightens his jacket, smooths back his hair, walks over to Emma and Azazel, gives Erik a wave. “See you around, Erik, I’m sure you’ll come to your senses soon." 

He moves off in the opposite direction of the incoming teacher, and Erik takes a step after him, raring for a fight, but Charles makes a soft little noise of distress and Erik’s by his side in a second, eyes soft and worried as he takes the slumping sub into his arms, lifts him up and cradles him to his body like something precious.

“Get out of my fucking way,” he spits at the students around him, carries Charles to the nurse's, his eyes glued to Charles’s slack face, Hank trailing after him, fretting.

The nurse jumps up when Erik bangs into the room, looks at Charles, pale and barely conscious in his arms, at the blood on Erik’s face, and directs them to a bed. But Erik only bares his bloody teeth at her and heads into the quiet room all schools are required to have for Doms and subs, closing and locking the door behind him, leaving Hank to deal with the panicking nurse.

“Charles?” Erik whispers, setting the sub down on the bed, crawling up next to him and enveloping him in his embrace. Gathers Charles’s wrists up in one hand and bows his head down into Erik’s chest, gripping his nape firmly and pressing a kiss into the top of his head, anchoring him securely to the Dom.

It takes a few minutes of Erik’s soft murmurings and firm grip for Charles to stop quivering and become aware of his surroundings. “Where?” He croaks, bleary, and Erik presses him further into his body, breathing out in relief. Charles squirms for a second, panicking, before realising who’s currently wrapped around him, and he goes limp, face screwing up.

“You’re safe, you’re fine, Shaw’s gone,” Erik murmurs into his hair, “I’ve got you, _schätzchen_ ,” and he slowly pets Charles as he cries, body shaking in shock from the forced Drop.

“Why is Shaw such a psycho?” Charles manages to hiccup later, “What’s his problem?”

Someone starts knocking on the door, muffled through the soundproofing, and Erik sits up and pulls Charles with him to the furthest corner away from it, securing him in his lap. “I’ll tell you later,” Erik says, glaring at the door, and Charles clumsily tries to clean the dried blood off Erik’s chin with a sleeve from his place perched on Erik’s thighs. “He hurt you,” he says, sad, and he wants to start crying again, everything he feels is so close to the surface, like he’s a newborn baby.

The door handle rattles, and Erik presses Charles’s head into his shoulder, “actually, that was Azazel,” he says, and it seems somebody found the key because the door swings open. The nurse is standing behind the principal and another teacher, and they seem to relax when they notice Charles peering at them, mostly cognizant, from his place in Erik’s arms.

They don’t separate them, but Erik’s mother is called, and Charles’s, but of course only Erik’s picks up. The story is also wrangled out of Erik; Charles isn’t in the condition to be talking to anyone, he only buries his head into Erik’s chest, body shaking every now and then, and everybody talks in hushed tones around him.

In the end, Raven is called in, who angrily calls Sarah, technically their Dom Guardian while they live in the townhouse, who comes to drive Charles home. But Charles isn’t ready to be separated from Erik, and Edie, newly arrived from work, still in her waitressing uniform, let’s Erik go with him, because she can’t take the pair back to her place since Charles hasn’t been collared yet by her son.

Erik gets suspended from school for three days for fighting, and preventing a sub getting Dropcare, despite the fact that he coaxed Charles out of the dangerous zone. The kicker is that Shaw and Azazel only get a slap on the wrist, with a careless _Doms will be Doms_ despite the fact Shaw had nonconsensually Commanded Charles into a Drop, and a quiet inquiry about whether or not they’ll be still in top form to play for the game next week. Edie yells up a storm, and later, Charles, aided by a livid Raven, will pen a rather harshly worded open letter and pin it up around the school, but it seems nothing is to be done about fairness, or the fact that Shaw started everything in the first place.

-

Charles is curled up on his bed between his two favourite Doms, drowsy with the attention being currently heaped on him. Raven is behind him, carefully stroking fingers down his spine, Erik in front, hand grasping his waist gently, thumb smoothing over his hip. Charles’s favourite playlist is playing softly in the background, speakers turned down low for the sub’s sensitive ears.  

“Shaw and I used to be friends, years ago. He asked me out,” Erik says, breaking the comfortable quietness. Charles stirs a little, blinking up at him curiously.

“What? Shaw’s gay?” Raven props herself up on her elbow, peering over Charles’s messy hair at him in shock. Erik shrugs, and Raven mutters, “that kind of explains a lot, and why Emma’s always glued to his side. By what’s with his problem Charles?”

Charles is staring up at him also, expression confused. He’s still pale, and prone to shaking, his body chemistry is all over the place, but he’s not bad enough to go to a Dynamic Center. He’d vomited though, just before, and ultimately just feels gross and in much need of comfort from his favourite Doms.

Erik smoothes down Charles hair, “Shaw didn’t take me saying no well,” he explains, “I think he’s used to hearing yes, from both Doms and subs. I don’t think he’s enjoying the fact I turned him down and found Charles instead. He hates subs. He thinks they’re pathetic.”

“That’s so wrong,” Raven says savagely, “everybody knows subs are just as strong as Doms, even stronger, what the fuck is wrong with him.”

Erik shrugs, “he’s the type of Dom to view submission as subservience and weakness,” he says simply, and brushes his thumb over Charles’s frown, worried; Charles hasn’t said a word since he’d first come out of his Drop in Erik’s arms. “He doesn’t see it as the gift it is,” he whispers.

Charles smiles at him, and Erik smiles back, and from the other side of Charles Raven watches them with intense eyes. “That’s why we’re no longer friends,” Erik says, “I shouldn’t have let him get away with hurting you,” and his lips turn down. “I thought if I ignored him, didn’t rise to the bait, he would fuck off, but I know better now. I’m so sorry, Charles.”

His expression is so full of self recrimination that Charles grips his hand and brings it to his lips, brushes his mouth over his silver rings. _I forgive you_ , Charles’s blue eyes seem to say.

“We can’t let him get away with this, especially since the school won’t do anything, they’re useless shit bags,” Raven fumes, and then visibly forces herself to calm down when Charles makes a soft, scared noise at her anger. Erik glares at her, but he’s already mostly forgiven her; she’s newly Presented as it is, she’s doing remarkably well around a vulnerable sub.

“I know,” is all Erik says, but his eyes are piercing. Over an unaware Charles’s head, they make a silent pact of revenge.

-

The next day, Charles gets to stay home from school, still a little lethargic and prone to silences. He thinks he’ll have to cajole Raven out the door to attend school, but she seems suspiciously fine with the fact that Erik will be over later to keep him company, and even leaves early, claiming she has a group project that she has to meet friends for before class.

When Erik arrives, he and Erik blob out on the couch, Charles munching through an entire block of strawberry milk chocolate as they begin to watch through The Lord of the Rings trilogy, comfortably secure in Erik’s hold. Charles refuses to go anywhere near the Hobbit films, and Erik doesn’t exactly complain about it, even if he thinks they’re perfectly adequate.

“They’re horrible, needlessly drawn out, CGI messes, what even was that scene with Legolas jumping on those stones in the air, does Peter Jackson even know what physics is?” Charles rants, “and to be fair, I like the addition of Tauriel as a female Dom character, but really, did they have to have her in a romantic relationship? It kind of undermines the entire addition of her character, and _three entire movies_ for one book, honestly,” and Erik doesn’t interrupt, he’s just kind of glad Charles is talking again.

They’re a few minutes into the Two Towers when Charles gets a text from Hank, _someone fucked up Shaw’s car,_ and Charles’s stomach goes cold.

 _What, how?_ Charles texts back, _who did it?_

_It looks pretty bad. Shaw’s pissed._

And then, _nobody knows, it happened in the school parking lot during football practice this morning._

“Erik,” he says, because suddenly Raven leaving early made sense, and there had been around and hour of overlap between her leaving and Erik arriving, and surely not, they couldn’t have been that stupid? When did they decide on this? “You wouldn’t happen to have done something to Shaw’s car this morning?”

Erik chews nonchalantly on a piece of popcorn. “Nope.”

Charles’s mouth drops open. “You’ll be expelled if they find out who did it! Raven too,” he admonishes. “Erik, this is ridiculous, I’m not worth that!”

Erik pins him with an intense look, and Charles quietens. “You’re worth everything, Charles,” Erik says, and Charles goes bright red up to his hairline, mutters, “I’m really not.”

“Whoever made you believe that is a gross liar,” Erik says with conviction. Charles deliberately doesn’t think of certain people in his family and shakes his head, dismissive. “Erik, Shaw’s going to find out who did it eventually. He probably already knows. He’s going to be _furious._ ”

Erik continues to munch on popcorn. “And?”

Charles puffs up, “Erik, do you really think he’s going to take it lying down?”

“Nope,” Erik says, and Charles is going to just _explode;_ Erik is so infuriating. “Erik, don’t you think you should be a little more worried about this? What if he really hurts you? What if he hurts Raven? You can’t drag her into this!”

“Raven’s a big girl,” is all Erik says, and Charles throws up his hands in the air, storms off with angry tears in his eyes, curls up in a chair in the kitchen and rubs at his face, trying to breath steadily. Stupid Drop hormones fucking his emotional balance all up. He hates being weepy.

Hands drop down onto his shoulders and Erik’s chin perches on top of his head. “I’m sorry, Charles,” Erik says, places a kiss in his hair.

“You’re really not,” Charles mutters, but doesn’t pull away from the Dom.

“He needs to know that he can’t touch you,” Erik pulls the chair around, sinks down to his knees, and Charles makes a small distressed sound; his Dom kneeling at his feet doesn’t feel right at all. “Shaw doesn’t understand words, he understands actions, and violence. I was an idiot to let him think he could push you around without me noticing. I was just so caught up in you,” he whispers, and rests his head against Charles’s knee, “please, forgive me.”

Everything in him tells Charles he should, anything to get his Dom up off his knees, but. “Promise me you won’t do anything else, not even if he decides to come after me again. Let the school punish him,” even if he doubts anything will really come of it, Shaw’s family is too rich, he’s too important to the school. He’s just not worth the cycle of retaliation he has a funny feeling is going to be in motion soon enough. He doesn’t want anyone hurt.

Erik’s eyes are piercing when he looks up at Charles, and he doesn’t say anything. Charles sighs, deflating, and tugs Erik’s head up to kiss him. “I’m still angry at you,” he grumbles, “and Raven, it’s not cool what you two did,” but Erik kisses him passionately, pulling him down with a hand on his nape, fingers digging into the lovebites there, and soon Charles doesn’t really remember what they were fighting about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed my tumblr url! 
> 
> http://silvyri.tumblr.com/
> 
> Come rant to me about anything. :)


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry friends, but I don't think I'll be updating this again. I'm just posting what I've managed to type out of chapter 3, since I figured that's the least I can do.

Hank turns up the next day with a brand new collar wrapped around his neck.

 

“That date must’ve gone really well,” Charles says, eyes wide. “Wow, Hank, congratulations!”

 

Hank goes a rather fetching shade of pink and smiles shyly. “Thanks, Charles. We haven’t gone to the Center yet to register, but we’re doing it tonight after school. I- I really like him.”

 

“I would hope so,” Charles grins, and marvels at the buttery dark blue leather. The little notch for a tag is empty, but that will be rectified when Hank and Alex register together later.

 

Hank tells Charles all about how Alex had presented it to him after dinner, out in the parking lot in his car because he couldn’t wait, and how Hank had whacked his head on the hand brake he’d gone down so fast to accept it and how’d Alex had dropped the collar under the seat trying to see if he was okay and they’d banged heads again reaching for the collar and it’d been  _ perfect _ . 

 

Charles oohs and ahhs at all the right times, and he honestly feels so happy for Hank, but he can’t help that little tinge of jealousy festering in his belly over the fact that his own neck is still bare.

 

-

 

Erik sticks to Charles’s side all day, walking him between classes even if it means that he’ll be late to his own. 

 

“Erik, honestly, you don’t have to,” Charles says as Erik stoically steals his books out his arms outside English. 

 

Erik doesn’t say anything, but the mulish expression on his face says  _ yes, I do. _

 

Charles sighs and resigns himself to the fact that his Dom is overprotective and silly, but he really does feel rather safer with Erik walking around him like a sharp toothed, leather wearing and earring adourned attack dog, growling at anyone who comes too close to Charles. The school’s hallways don’t seem so cheery and familiar now that Shaw has proved that they aren’t safe anymore. 

 

Erik leaves him outside his chem classroom with his books, and Charles brushes a quick kiss across his cheek in thanks. Erik’s expression twitches and his face goes a little red, but he walks away with his normal pissed off expression. Charles just smiles after him and disappears into class. 

 

-

 

Charles is curled up on the leather armchair in the chess club room, frowning as he fingers a bishop. Darwin is sitting across from him, patiently waiting for him to make his move.

 

“Uh oh,” Darwin says, and Charles absently looks up from where he’s placed his bishop. 

 

“What?”

 

“Someone looks angry,” Darwin nods his head, looking over Charles’s shoulder, and Charles twists around in his seat to see Erik standing in the doorway. “Then again, Lehnsherr always kind of looks that way,” Darwin mutters. 

 

Charles’s stomach drops at Erik’s expression, which is fairly murderous, and fumbles his phone out of his pocket. It’s nearly four, an hour after he’s supposed to meet Erik. There’s also three missed calls and eleven texts, all from Erik. His heart drops.

 

“Oh god,” he says, as Erik advances into the room, face thunderous, “I’m so sorry, I had a study period last and Darwin and I decided to have a game of chess and I completely didn’t notice the time and I turn my phone onto silent when I’m in here, oh Erik, I’m terribly sorry,  _ please don’t kill me, _ ” he squeaks, eyes wide and beseeching. 

 

“I thought-” Erik starts, and then cuts himself off, glaring at Darwin. 

 

Darwin stands immediately, hands up, “we can pick this game up another time.” He looks sympathetically at Charles, who’s shrinking in his seat.

 

_ Don’t leave me _ Charles begs with his eyes, but Darwin only pats him on his shoulder as he leaves. “Good luck, man, you’re on your own,” Darwin whispers out of the corner of his mouth, but Charles is pretty sure no kind of luck is going to help him, judging from the look on Erik’s face. 

 

When Erik’s gone he leans over Charles’s form, who shrinks back, but then Erik’s expression abruptly goes from angry to relieved. Charles stiffens in confusion as Erik rests his forehead against Charles’s shoulder, breathing out slowly. 

 

“I thought Shaw-” Erik doesn’t say anything else, but Charles goes limp and his arms come up around the Dom.  _ Oh _ , he thinks. He feels horribly guilty, making Erik work himself into this state. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” he whispers.

 

“All I could think about was him hurting you,” Erik mutters, “All I could think of all day when I didn’t see you is that of course he knows I fucked up his precious car, that he would come after you,  _ fuck _ , but I can’t let him just  _ hurt _ you without doing anything about it,” Erik forces out. 

 

Charles’s eyes go all soft. “Oh, Erik,” he soothes, kissing Erik’s forehead, “darling, I’m fine.”

 

Erik’s grip on him is tight, “can we go?” Erik whispers, and Charles nods. They walk to Erik’s, because Charles doesn’t think he can handle Sarah’s judging eyes or Raven’s questions and Erik’s mum’s working a night shift so she won’t be home. 

 

Erik’s silent the entire way, but he holds Charles’s textbooks in one hand and Charles’s hand in the other, fingers stiff and shoulders held tight. Charles fights the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, that he’s hurt his Dom by not keeping his eye on the time, that he couldn’t even do something that simple.

 

Erik drops onto the worn couch in the lounge and wraps himself around Charles in his lap, burying his face into Charles neck. 

 

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” Charles apologises again, and Erik shakes his head. “You didn’t mean to, I understand,” Erik mutters. Charles can feel his severe frown against his throat.

 

Charles just runs his hands through Erik’s dark red hair, over his metal laden ears, gentling him. “Well,” he sighs, “I’ll make some hot chocolate, that’ll help.”

 

Erik remains glued to him as he boils the jug, pours milk and hot water and chocolate powder into a mug. They settle down, back on the couch, and put on John Wick, watching the Dom shoot through masses of bad guys. Charles makes sure to keep his body language gentle and submissive, placid under Erik’s clutching hands, baring his neck and wrists when he can to calm the Dom. He ignores the tight feeling of guilt lingering in the back of his head, telling it to go away, Erik’s basically forgiven him already.

 

Erik finishes the mug of hot chocolate just as it gets to the club scene, and he ends up taking his leather jacket off and wrapping it around Charles, a Dominant tic to mark something as his when he’s feeling insecure. Charles clutches it to himself gladly, breathing in Erik’s scent of smoke and musk, and tries to keep himself limp and obedient in Erik’s arms.

 

When the credits roll Erik sighs, finally calm under Charles’s body. Charles wonders if there’s something worrying in the fact that a violent movie helped calm Erik down, but he doesn’t think about it too hard. “Thank you,” Erik mutters. 

 

“Don’t thank me, I’m the one that made you worry,” Charles replies.

 

Erik tilts his head up by his chin, looks him in the eyes. “Don’t apologise, people lose track of time all the time,” he says, “just, don’t turn your phone to silent next time.”

 

Charles nods meekly, and he knows he shouldn’t feel this bad, but he can’t help it, he didn’t mean to make his Dom feel so worried. “Okay, Erik,” he drops in gaze down. 

 

“Hey,” Erik tilts his face up more, but Charles can’t make himself look him in the eye. “Charles, you did nothing wrong, look at me.”

 

But Charles can’t, and he feels even worse that he can’t obey his Dom’s orders, what kind of sub is he, he’s made Erik feel bad and then disobeyed him.

 

“Charles,” Erik studies him, “do you need me to punish you?”

 

Shaking his head, Charles pulls his chin out of Erik’s grip. “No,” he says petulantly, “I’m fine.”

 

Erik’s silent for a second, and when Charles looks back at him, and his eyes go a little wide at Erik’s stoney expression.

 

“Okay then,” Erik says, “go sit in the corner then, prove it.”

 

“What? No,” Charles protests, Erik can’t make him, he doesn’t need to be punished, he can deal with this stupid guilt himself, he’s eighteen and not some snot nosed twelve year old sub who can’t keep his submissive hormones in check.

 

“Charles,” Erik growls, “go sit in the corner.”

 

“Fuck off,” Charles snarls, and if he wasn’t all off kilter he would’ve been absolutely mortified at swearing at Erik, but he still fights against Erik when the Dom stands and starts to drag him over the corner. “Just because I’m a sub doesn’t mean you can punish me whenever you want, you’re just wanting to punish me to make yourself feel better, I’m not really your sub anyway; you haven’t even  _ collared  _ me yet you arsehole, let me  _ go. _ ”

 

Erik forces him down to his knees, facing the corner, and Charles squirms, trying to pry Erik’s hands off of his shoulders. Absently, he knows he could safeword out, say  _ red _ and Erik would stop in an instant, but the word doesn’t leave his mouth, only increasingly offending insults that he didn’t even know he was even capable of. 

 

“Be  _ silent _ ,” Erik growls, and Charles freezes at the Command. “You’re going to kneel here, for ten minutes,  _ quietly _ , and think about what you’ve said to me.”

 

Charles whimpers, cowering at Erik’s severe tone, and leans his forehead against the wall in front of him. Erik, once he’s satisfied that Charles is going to stay where he’s put him, leaves him and goes back to sitting on the couch. Turns on the tv and ignores him. 

 

In the corner, Charles hates himself for cowering under Erik, and fumes, thinking terrible thoughts about his Dom, _how dare he, I had to take care of_ him _and he’s going to_ punish me _for it, I’m not a child he can just put in a corner and ignore me, fuck him, fuck this shit_ , and the minutes tick by and suddenly there are tears on his cheeks.

At first he’s furious at them, but then he suddenly wants Erik to pay attention to him, and then he’s crying properly, sobbing, and he feels  _ terrible _ , he can’t believe he’d yelled at Erik, can’t believe he’d said he wasn’t Erik’s sub, can’t believe that he’d thought all those horrible thoughts. 

 

He sobs quietly in the corner, shoulders hitching, doesn’t think that Erik’s ever going to forgive him, and the remaining minutes feel like a lifetime.

 

But then there is a hand in his hair and Erik’s gathering him up in his arms. His Command of silence has worn off, and Charles starts babbling, fingers clutching desperately at Erik’s shirt. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Erik, I’m yours, I didn’t mean what I said, please forgive me, I didn’t mean any of it, I just- didn’t mean to worry you, I’m so sorry-”

 

Shushing him, Erik sits back on the couch and lies him down over his thighs, yanks his pants down. Charles doesn’t fight him, just lies limply there, hands covering his face in shame. “Ten,” Erik states, “and ten more, for swearing at me. Hands behind your back, and count, Charles.”

 

Charles obeys, clutching his wrists behind his back. The first smack hurts, and Erik must’ve taken off his rings because no skin splits, but it still stings like mad, right on the fleshiest part of his backside, and he cries out, “One, Erik, I’m so sorry!”

 

There’s no reply, only another harsh whack, and Charles jolts with the force of it, harder than the first one, but right on top of it. Charles sobs out, “two, I’m sorry,” and the next four are just as hard and in the same spot, and Charles doesn’t think he can take anymore and he’s got fifteen more to go.

 

But Erik switches to his left cheek and lays into him there, and Charles is howling, managing to get the count out around sobs, and then Erik abuses his right cheek, working it up into hot redness. Charles starts to lose momentum around the fifteenth smack, where Erik whacks where his arse meets his thighs, and hiccups quietly, accepting the hits with only strangled whines as his body jumps with each time Erik’s palm meets his flesh. 

 

He almost doesn’t register when Erik stops and rubs soothingly at his aching backside, but this time doesn’t get up and collect the soothing cream, just pulls up Charles’s pants and rearranges him so he’s kneeling on a pillow at Erik’s feet, head leaning on Erik’s thigh.

 

“I forgive you,  _ schätzchen _ ,” Erik says, wiping away the snot and tears on Charles’s face with a sleeve. Charles almost collapses at the words, and clings quietly to Erik’s leg. “You took that so well,” Erik praises, and Charles shifts, hesitantly happy, and whimpers when his sore backside rubs up against his calves. His underwear over the hot skin is agony enough as it is.

 

“Shh,” is all Erik says though, petting his hair. “I’m going to keep you under for a little longer, you need it,” and Charles doesn’t care, he wants anything Erik wants, he just wants to make his Dom happy, and he nuzzles into Erik’s knee, mewling.

 

He’s still under, drowsy and bleary eyed, vaguely listening to Brooklyn 99 in the background, when Erik’s mum gets home. He stirs a little at the front door closing, but Erik just smooths his hair back and he settles again, sighing.

 

Edie appears at the doorway, “there you are-” she starts, and then trails off when she sees Charles at Erik’s feet. “Oh, poor little dear,” she says and approaches, patting Charles’s face with a smooth palm.

 

Any other time Charles would be embarrassed, but in his current state he just nuzzles into her hand, humming in pleasure. “He’s so sweet, Erik,” she murmurs, runs the back of her hand over his cheek, “I hope nothing bad happened?”

 

Erik shrugs, “we worked it out,” he says and she sighs. Places a hand on the back of Charles’s neck, and Charles recognises his Dom’s mother and doesn’t fight off the touch, just lets his head hang forward as she strokes him soothingly.

 

“Dinner in an hour,” Edie says, “I’ll leave you two to it, treat him gently, mäuschen.” 

 

“I know, mama,” Erik says, surly, but she just smiles, pats him on the cheek and disappears to have a shower.

 

Erik brings Charles back up half an hour later, laying him out on the couch and rubbing his sore muscles. “How are you feeling?” He asks, when he sees blue eyes peek out from under an overlong fringe, finally clear and aware. 

 

“Good,” Charles blinks, and he’s being honest, he feels light and unburdened by heavy feelings from before. “I am really sorry, you know,” he says, like an afterthought.

 

Erik kisses his forehead, “I know,  _ schätzchen _ , I’ve forgiven you.”

 

“ _ Schätzchen? _ ” Charles stumbles over the foreign word, and watches, fascinated as a flush spreads over Erik’s sharp cheekbones.

 

“It means, darling, sort of, in German,” Erik says, “it’s, uh, a diminutive form of  _ schatz _ , which means treasure, I guess.”

 

“Oh,” Charles flushes, and Erik grins a little bashfully. “Mama’s made dinner,” he prompts, and helps Charles stand when he stumbles. He feeds Charles dinner from his own hands, the sub sitting quietly in his lap, and Edie watches them with fond eyes. 

 

After Erik walks him home and Charles has settled into bed on his stomach, butt still nicely sore, he browses a couple jewellery stores online, his laptop screen glowing on his face in the dark. There are so many different collars in so many different styles, and he stays up to two in morning, scrolling through pages and pages of collars, wondering which one Erik will buy for him.

 

-

 

Shaw seems to take the damage to his car as the warning it was, and doesn’t try anything else. Charles hardly sees him in the hallways, and they don’t share any classes, so after a while Charles begins to relax at school. Maybe Shaw doesn’t think he and Erik are worth the trouble anymore? Maybe this will be the end of it?

 

“Charles, Charles?” Charles blinks at the fingers snapping in front of his face and realises that he’s staring off into space, his mouth hanging open absently from where he’d been munching on a bite of apple.

 

Blushing, he finishes chewing and swallows. “Sorry, Raven, what?”

 

“Honestly, for a genius, you’re a bit of an airhead,” he younger sister rolls his eyes. “Alex was just saying that his parents are leaving next weekend for a business conference and he’s throwing a party. Wanna go?”

 

“Raven, you’re too young to go to a party,” Charles says, and Raven huffs, “I’m  _ sixteen _ , Charles, not ten, come  _ on, _ ” she whines, and even though Raven’s a Dom now, she’s still Charles’s little sister.

 

“The strongest stuff will be probably be beer, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Alex says from where he’s sitting across from them on the school field, face turned up to the sun. “Come on, live a little, Xavier.”

 

Charles sticks his tongue out at the Dom, “stop trying to make my little sister into a deviant,” he says. “Hank, honestly, why did you let him collar you?”

 

Hank looks up from his textbook, blinking, “huh?”

 

Raven rolls her eyes again and falls back into the grass, “Christ, the both of you are just  _ useless _ .”

 

Charles makes a face at her and takes another bite out of an apple. To be honest, he’s never been invited to a party before, he kind of wants to go. “Are you going, Hank?”

 

“What, to the party?” The other sub asks absently as he scribbles across a page of equations, “uh, yeah.”

 

“You can come too, Lehnsherr,” Alex says, and the Dom lying next to Charles grunts and turns over, putting his head into Charles’s lap. Charles goes a little red and runs his fingers through Erik’s messy hair.

 

“Yeah, whatever, I guess I’ll go,” Erik says and shuts his eyes again, relaxing in the warmth of the sun and Charles’s fingers on his scalp. 

 

“I’ll come then,” Charles says eventually, and Raven whoops. “That doesn’t mean you can come,” he tells her, “you’re far too young.”

 

“Charleeeesss, that’s not fair,” she whines, “Angel’s going, and she’s in my year!”

 

“But she’s not my little sister,” Charles sniffs, “you can go to parties when you’re my age.”

 

“But I’m never going to be your age! You’re two years older!” She squawks, and pouts, crossing her arms. Erik opens an eye at her, annoyed. “Be quiet,” he grunts, “I’m trying to sleep.”

 

“Oh fuck off,” Raven stands up, “I’m going to find my friends who aren’t  _ lame _ like you guys,” she pulls the finger and storms off. Charles closes his eyes and flops back, Raven will get over it soon enough. That, or she’ll probably find her way to the party anyway, it’s not like Charles has ever been able to control her. And now that she’s a Dom and being all possessive of him, she’s going to be even more obstinate. 

 

Their little group sits in the sun for a little longer, until Alex starts making out with Hank and Charles thinks he’s beginning to burn from both the sun and the sheer grossness of his best friend being ravished on the school field, and he and Erik retreat back inside for the rest of lunch. 

 

-

 

“Stay over at mine tonight,” Erik says as Charles dumps his textbooks into his locker after his last class. 

 

“Um,” Charles’s face goes bright red, and he tries to hide it while he roots through the mess of his locker, pretending to look for something.  _ Be cool, Charles _ , he thinks. “Yeah, okay,” he manages to say without squeaking. 

 

Erik’s fingers wrap around his wrist, and the Dom pulls him out from hiding, gripping the the back of Charles’s neck with his other hand. Charles goes obediently still in Erik’s hold, mouth open a little at the intensity of Erik’s grey gaze.

 

“Are you sure?” Erik asks, “I won’t be mad if you don’t want to,” and Charles thinks  _ oh, is he going to ask to collar me- _ and a thrill runs down his spine. “Yes, I’m sure,” he whispers.

 

A slow, predatory smile spreads over Erik’s face, and Charles isn’t the least bit scared.

 

-

 

Charles texts Raven as they walk back to Charles’s to grab his stuff and a change of clothes.

 

_ I’m staying over at Erik’s tonight. I think he’s going to collar me _ . He sends.

 

It only takes a second for Raven to text back.  _ Wow, that’s awesome! _

 

And then a second later,  _ are you sure _ , and then,  _ if he doesn’t anything you don’t want, text me and i’ll come get you and kick his arse. _

 

Charles smiles down at his phone.  _ I’m sure, and thanks, Raven, but I don’t think you’ll have to. _

 

_ Yeah, yeah. Send me a pic of your collar as soon as you can! _

 

Charles goes a little pink but responds with an affirmative. They arrive at Charles’s, and Charles packs his bag as fast as possible, running back out the front door in under five minutes.

 

Erik lifts an eyebrow from where he’s waiting outside, smoking. “Eager, are we?” He teases, and Charles goes shy, ducking his head.

 

Erik only makes a small, amused sound, and tips his face up to kiss him. His mouth tastes like cigarettes but Charles doesn’t mind, melting immediately into Erik’s embrace. 

 

“Don’t be embarrassed, I like it,” Erik whispers into his ear, and Charles only goes redder. The Dom drops his cigarette and grinds it out under his boot, takes Charles’s bag from him and heads down to the front gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this guys! Maybe one day I'll come back to this when I'm feeling passionate about Cherik. If anybody wants to pick this up, feel free to!

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me at http://silvyri.tumblr.com/.
> 
> I would love some feedback <3.


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